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many doors opened off it on each side.She stood still and couldn’t hear the squeak of a mouse,or the buzzing of a fly,or the swaying of a curtain,or anything-except the beating of her own heart.
“The last doorway on the left,”she said to herself.It did seem a bit hard that it should be the last.To reach it she would have to walk past room after room.And in any room there might be the magician-asleep,or awake,or invisible,or even dead.But it wouldn’t do to think about that.She set out on her journey.The carpet was so thick that her feet made no noise.
“There’s nothing whatever to be afraid of yet,”Lucy told herself.And certainly it was a quiet,sunlit passage;perhaps a bit too quiet.It would have been nicer if there had not been strange signs painted in scarlet on the doors twisty,complicated things which obviously had a meaning and it mightn’t be a very nice meaning either.It would have been nicer still if there weren’t those masks hanging on the wall.Not that they were ex