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CHAPTER VIII
"IT'S MY OWN INVENTION"
After a while the noise seemed
gradually to die away, till all was
dead silence, and Alice lifted up her head
in some alarm. There was no one to
be seen, and her first thought was that
she must have been dreaming about
the Lion and the Unicorn and those
queer Anglo-Saxon Messengers. However,
there was the great dish still lying
at her feet, on which she had tried to
cut the plum-cake. "So I wasn't dreaming,
after all," she said to herself, "unless—unless
we're all part of the same
dream. Only I do hope it's my dream,
and not the Red King's! I don't like
belonging to another person's dream,"
she went on, in a rather complaining