“What‘s the matter？” she said. And to show that she was not afraid， she stood very near the edge indeed； in fact， a good deal nearer than even she liked. Then she looked down. She now realized that Scrubb had some excuse for looking white， for no cliff in our world is to be compared with this. Imagine yourself at the top of the very highest cliff you know. And imagine yourself looking down to the very bottom. And then imagine that the precipice goes on below that， as far again， ten times as far， twenty times as far. And when you’ve looked down all that distance imagine little white things that might， at first glance， be mistaken for sheep， but presently you realize that they are clouds. not little wreaths of mist but the enormous white， puffy clouds which are themselves as big as most mountains. And at last， in between those clouds， you get your first glimpse of the real bottom， so far away that you can‘t make out whether it’s field or wood， or land or water： further belowthose clouds than you are above them.
