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Mrs
.
Phelps
looked
along
the
shelves
,
taking
her
time
.
She
didn
’
t
quite
know
what
to
bring
out
.
How
,
she
asked
herself
,
does
one
choose
a
famous
grown
-
up
book
for
a
four
-
year
-
old
girl
?
Her
first
thought
was
to
pick
a
young
teenager
’
s
romance
of
the
kind
that
is
written
for
fifteen
-
year
-
old
schoolgirls
,
but
for
some
reason
she
found
herself
instinc
-
tively
walking
past
that
particular
shelf
.
"
Try
this
,
"
she
said
at
last
.
"
It
’
s
very
famous
and
very
good
.
If
it
’
s
too
long
for
you
,
just
let
me
know
and
I
’
ll
find
something
shorter
and
a
bit
easier
.
"
"
Great
Expectations
,
"
Matilda
read
,
"
by
Charles
Dickens
.
I
’
d
love
to
try
it
.
"
I
must
be
mad
,
Mrs
.
Phelps
told
herself
,
but
to
Matilda
she
said
,
"
Of
course
you
may
try
it
.
"
Over
the
next
few
afternoons
Mrs
.
Phelps
could
hardly
take
her
eyes
from
the
small
girl
sitting
for
hour
after
hour
in
the
big
armchair
at
the
far
end
of
the
room
with
the
book
on
her
lap
.
It
was
necessary
to
rest
it
on
the
lap
because
it
was
too
heavy
for
her
to
hold
up
,
which
meant
she
had
to
sit
leaning
forward
in
order
to
read
.
And
a
strange
sight
it
was
,
this
tiny
dark
-
haired
person
sitting
there
with
her
feet
nowhere
near
touching
the
floor
,
totally
absorbed
in
the
wonderful
adventures
of
Pip
and
old
Miss
Havisham
and
her
cobwebbed
house
and
by
the
spell
of
magic
that
Dickens
the
great
story
-
teller
had
woven
with
his
words
.
The
only
movement
from
the
reader
was
the
lifting
of
the
hand
every
now
and
then
to
turn
over
a
page
,
and
Mrs
.
Phelps
always
felt
sad
when
the
time
came
for
her
to
cross
the
floor
and
say
;
"
It
’
s
ten
to
five
,
Matilda
.
"
During
the
first
week
of
Matilda
’
s
visits
Mrs
.
Phelps
had
said
to
her
,
"
Does
your
mother
walk
you
down
here
every
day
and
then
take
you
home
?
"
"
My
mother
goes
to
Aylesbury
every
afternoon
to
play
bingo
,
"
Matilda
had
said
.
"
She
doesn
’
t
know
I
come
here
.
"
"
But
that
’
s
surely
not
right
,
"
Mrs
.
Phelps
said
.
"
I
think
you
’
d
better
ask
her
.
"
