His Name Was Walter chapter sampler

‘I don’t think we should …’ she began, then stopped and cleared her throat. ‘I only want to look at it,’ Colin said, keeping a tight grip on the book. ‘I’m being careful.’ Mrs Fiori didn’t say anything. Colin managed to look away from the beehive painting and glance at her. Her eyes were moving slowly from the picture to the handwritten text that filled the opposite page. Colin had barely noticed that the text was there. He’d been too interested in the illustration. But now he looked. The text page had a heading. It was the same as the title on the front cover of the book. His Name Was Walter . A little nerve flicked in one of Colin’s eyelids. His fingertips tingled. He flipped over more pages, saw more text, caught glimpses of more vivid pictures. Every picture seemed to introduce a new section of text, and every section ended with a tiny painting of a small brown bird. He went to the end and saw that the book had been filled — filled to the very last page. ‘It’s a whole story,’ he said slowly, turning back to the beginning. ‘Yes,’ Mrs Fiori murmured. ‘Who wrote it, I wonder? Who painted all those pictures? How long ago? And why was it hidden? It might have been in that drawer for years! For all we know, we’re the first people to see it since it was finished.’

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