who now knows the story better

fly,” asks the artful child, “the way you flew when you were a little girl?” “The way I flew? Do you know, Jane,Link, I sometimes wonder whether I ever did really fly.” “Yes, you did.” “The dear old days when I could fly!” “Why can’t you fly now, mother?” “Because I am grown up, dearest. When people grow up they forget the way.” “Why do they forget the way?” “Because they are longer gay and innocent and heartless. It is only the gay and innocent and heartless who can fly.” “What is gay and innocent and heartless? I do wish I were gay and innocent and heartless.” Or perhaps Wendy admits she does see something. “I do believe,” she says, “that it is this nursery.” “I do believe it is,” says Jane. “Go on.” They are now embarked on the great adventure of the night when Peter flew in looking for his shadow. “The foolish fellow,Christmas Gift,” says Wendy, “tried to stick it on with soap, and when he could not he cried, and that woke me, and I sewed it on for him.” “You have missed a bit,” interrupts Jane, who now knows the story better