But I am not as queer as I was before I began to like people and before I found the garden." "I don't want to be queer," said Colin.

"I am not going to be," and he frowned again with determination.
He was a very proud boy.

He lay thinking for a while and then Mary saw his beautiful smile begin and gradually change his whole face.
"I shall stop being queer," he said, "if I go every day to the garden.
There is Magic in there--good Magic, you know, Mary.

I am sure there is." "So am I," said Mary.
"Even if it isn't real Magic," Colin said, "we can pretend it is.
_Something_ is there--_something_!" "It's Magic," said Mary, "but not black.

It's as white as snow." They always called it Magic and indeed it seemed like it in the months that followed--the wonderful months--the radiant months--the amazing ones.