Shadowy men were lifting pale
shrouds off the counters. Voices chattering in the gloom were like
voices of monkeys in a dusky jungle--a jungle quite unlike that fairy
place where Peter Rolls had talked of Win to Lady Eileen. Out of the
gloom wondrous things emerged to people, a weird world--the Hands'
world of toys.
As Win strained her eyes to see through the dusk, forth from its
depths loomed uncouth, motionless shapes. Almost life-size lions and
Teddy bears, and huge, grinning baboons as big as five-year-old boys,
posed in silent, expressive groups, dangerously near to unprotected
dolls' houses with open fronts--splendid dolls' houses, large enough
for children to enter, and less important dolls' houses, only big
enough for fairies. Dolls' eyes and dolls' dresses and dolls' golden
curls caught what little light there was and drew attention to
themselves.
Some of them stood, three rows deep (the little ones in front, like
children watching a show), on shelves. Others were being fetched out
by the chattering shadows, as if they were favourite chorus girls, to
display their graces on the counters. They were placed in chairs, or
motor cars of doll land, or seated carefully in baby carriages.
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