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176 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1959
Ping sighed. "I can't understand -- when it's the thing [grown-ups] want most in the world and it's there before their eyes -- why they won't see it."
"They are often like that," said Oskar wisely. "They don't like now. If it's really interesting, it has to be then."
On windy days the surface of the river is raised in little pyramids streaked like the crisscross fork pattern on mashed potatoes.
Seen from the punt, the world was a symmetrical but unfamiliar pattern of bulky blacknesses jutting into quicksilver. The daylight line between reality and reflection was gone.
"You don't understand," said Ping. "They don't send displaced persons home. They put them in camps. They might even put them in the zoo."
They were standing at midnight, alone, under a sky that was there before either earth or moon had been and would be there long after. In this agonising second of revelation that ALL passes, the bark of a disturbed heron caused them to clutch each other, and jerked loose their tongues.