The sun would slant in from the west in the late afternoon until the room was brimful of light.
Finally Bill rented a sander from Millsburg Plaza, and they took off the black floor paint down to the wide oak boards and refinished them.
“No rugs,” Bill said. “No,” agreed Judy. “It would be like putting a veil on the Mona Lisa.”
When Bill and the children had finished razor-blading the last bits of paint off the windows and washed the panes,
they called Judy down from her upstairs study to come and see. The four of them sat down on the floor and gazed around.
It was gorgeous. Leslie gave a deep satisfied sigh. “I love this room,” she said.
“Don't you feel the golden enchantment of it? It is worthy to be”—Jess looked up in sudden alarm—“in a palace.”
Relief. In such a mood, a person might even let a sworn secret slip.
But she hadn't, not even to Bill and Judy, and he knew how she felt about her parents.
She must have seen his anxiety because she winked at him across Bill and Judy
just as he sometimes winked at May Belle over Joyce Ann's head. Terabithia was still just for the two of them.
The next afternoon they called P. T. and headed for Terabithia.
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