So now it’s Easter in London and the evenings are growing long and light and everywhere you go you can hear, through open windows, the sounds of children playing late because it’s still the holidays and they are refusing to go to bed.
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On Writing Magic and John Dee
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So now it’s Easter in London and the evenings are growing long and light and everywhere you go you can hear, through open windows, the sounds of children playing late because it’s still the holidays and they are refusing to go to bed.