it was better than it had been the day before. Robin himself saw that and leaned towards her as eagerly as Ben.
By the time they entered the Palace of the Flowers, and stood among the flame of colours and beneath the great palm-fronds swaying under the crystal globe that was its dome, she had warmed until she was all aglow and as full of fancies as the pavilions were of blossoms.
As she dived into the story of the Genie who strode through tropical forests and deep jungles, over purple moors and up mountain-sides where strange-hued, pale or vivid things grew in tangles, or standing in the sun alone, John Holt became of the opinion that his experiment would be a success. It was here that he began to find he had gifts to give. She asked him questions, Robin and Ben asked him questions, the three drew close to him and hung on his every word.
"You know the things and the places where they grow," Meg said. "We have never seen anything. We can only try to imagine. You can tell us." And he did tell them, and as they went from court to pavilion, surrounded by sumptuous bloom and sumptuous leafage and sumptuous fragrance, the three began to cling to him, to turn to him with every new discovery, and to forget he was a stranger. He knew
