“I myself,” Miss Honey said, “am probably far more bowled over by what you did than you are, and I am trying to find some reasonable explanation.”
“Such as what?” Matilda asked. “Such as whether or not it's got something to do with the fact that you are quite exceptionally precocious.”
“What exactly does that word mean?” Matilda said.
“A precocious child,” Miss Honey said, “is one that shows amazing intelligence early on. You are an unbelievably precocious child.”
“Am I really?” Matilda asked. “Of course you are. You must be aware of that. Look at your reading. Look at your mathematics.”
“I suppose you're right,” Matilda said. Miss Honey marvelled at the child's lack of conceit and self-consciousness.
“I can't help wondering,” she said, “whether this sudden ability that has come to you,”
of being able to move an object without touching it, whether it might not have something to do with your brainpower.”
“You mean there might not be room in my head for all those brains so something has to push out?”
“That's not quite what I mean,” Miss Honey said, smiling. “But whatever happens, and I say it again, we must tread carefully from now on.”
“I have not forgotten that strange and distant glimmer on your face after you tipped over the last glass.”
“Do you think doing it could actually hurt me? Is that what you're thinking, Miss Honey?”
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