She gaped at the glass, leaning well away from it now as though it might be a dangerous thing.
Then slowly she lifted her head and looked at Matilda.
She saw the child white in the face, as white as paper, trembling all over, the eyes glazed, staring straight ahead and seeing nothing.
The whole face was transfigured, the eyes round and bright and she was sitting there speechless, quite beautiful in a blaze of silence.
Miss Honey waited, trembling a little herself and watching the child as she slowly stirred herself back into consciousness.
And then suddenly, click went her face into a look of almost seraphic calm.
“I'm all right,” she said and smiled. “I'm quite all right, Miss Honey, so don't be alarmed.”
“You seemed so far away,” Miss Honey whispered, awestruck.
“Oh, I was. I was flying past the stars on silver wings,” Matilda said. “It was wonderful.”
Miss Honey was still gazing at the child in absolute wonderment, as though she were The Creation, The Beginning Of The World, The First Morning.
“It went much quicker this time,” Matilda said quietly.
“It's not possible!” Miss Honey was gasping. “I don't believe it! I simply don't believe it!”
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