Tirian had thought.or he would have thought if he had me to think at all.that they were inside a little thatched able， about twelve feet long and six feet wide. In reality hey stood on grass， the deep blue sky was overhead， and he air which blew gently on their faces was that of a day in arly summer.
Not far away from them rose a grove of trees， thickly aved， but under every leaf there peeped out the gold or int yellow or purple or glowing red of fruits such as no ne has seen in our world. The fruit made Tirian feel that it ust be autumn but there was something in the feel of the r that told him it could not be later than June. They all oved towards the trees.
Everyone raised his hand to pick the fruit he best liked he look of， and then everyone paused for a second. This uit was so beautiful that each felt “It can‘t be meant for e... surely we’re not allowed to pluck it.”
“It‘s all right，” said Peter. “I know what we’re all thinking. ut I‘m sure， quite sure， we needn’t. I‘ve a feeling we’ve got o the country where everything is allowed.”