Every Reader Knows About The Feeling That

When It Came To Hiding, Even Gwin Had Nothing To Teach Dustfinger. A Strange Sense Of Curiosity Had Always Driven Him To Explore The Hidden, Forgotten Corners Of This And Any Other Place, And All That Knowledge Had Now Come In Useful.

He Wants To Be Grown-up. How Different Dreams Can Be! Nature Will Soon Grant Your Wish.

So It's Happened, I Kept Thinking, You're In The Middle Of A Story Exactly As You've Always Wanted, And It's Horrible. Fear Tastes Quite Different When You're Not Just Reading About It, Meggie, And Playing Hero Wasn't Half As Much Fun As I'd Expected.

Because By Now Elinor Had Understood This, Too: A Longing For Books Was Nothing Compared With What You Could Feel For Human Beings. The Books Told You About That Feeling. The Books Spoke Of Love, And It Was Wonderful To Listen To Them, But They Were No Substitute For Love Itself. They Couldn't Kiss Her Like Meggie, They Couldn't Hug Her Like Resa, They Couldn't Laugh Like Mortimer. Poor Books, Poor Elinor.

Quite Suddenly Meggie Felt Fear Rise In Her Like Black Brackish Water, She Felt Lost, Terribly Lost, She Felt It In Every Part Of Her. She Didn't Belong Here! What Had She Done?