Alice was going, who could be sure, though she was as silent as a church mouse.

The girl with the white horse and her friend walked slowly up and down, waiting for the car to move.

It was like a dream.

They had driven all the way from Seattle, through the night, and, in the dark, they had lost their way. The girl with the white horse was in a dream. She had never felt anything like this before.

Alice could see her friend’s eyes. It was as though she were looking into a window, into an empty house.

The girl with the white horse’s friend said, “It’s so quiet here.”

The girl with the white horse said, “It’s very quiet, but it doesn’t seem like something that happens to you.”

“I don’t know what it is,” she said.

“I didn’t understand that you would be here,” Alice said, “or where you would be.”

The girl with a white horse’s friend looked down and said nothing.

“You don’t understand, Alice. I didn’t mean to be here. I mean, I was just going to drive to the next town, or somewhere, but the car stopped.”

“Where is the next town?”

Alice said, “It’s probably just up that