and see what his people put in it. Let us be part of the fairy story when we go anywhere. It will make it beautiful."
They took their fairy story with them and went their way. They made it as much the way of a fairy story as possible. They found a gondola with a rich-hued, gay-scarfed gondolier, and took their places.
"Now we are in Venice," Meg said as they shot smoothly out upon the lagoon. "We can be in any country we like. Now we are in Venice/
Their gondola stopped and lay rocking on the lagoon before the palace's broad white steps. They mounted them and entered into a rich glowing world all unknown.
They knew little of pictures, they knew nothing of statuary, but they went from room to room throbbing with enjoyment. They stopped before beautiful faces and happy scenes, and vaguely smiled, though they did not know they were smiling; they lingered before faces and figures that were sad, and their own dark little faces grew soft and grave. They could not afford to buy a catalogue, so they could only look and pity and delight or wonder.
"We must make up the stories and thoughts of them ourselves," Robin said. "Let's take it in turns, Meg. Yours will be the best ones, of course."
