As nothing happened she began looking at the pictures. And all at once she saw the very last thing she expected.a picture of a third.class carriage in a train， with two schoolgirls sitting in it. She knew them at once. They were Marjorie Preston and Anne Featherstone. Only now it was much more than a picture. It was alive. She could see the telegraph posts flicking past outside the window. Then gradually （like when the radio is “coming on”） she could hear what they were saying.
“Shall I see anything of you this term？” said Anne， “or are you still going to be all taken up with Lucy Pevensie. ““Don‘t know what you mean by taken up，” said Marjorie. “Oh yes， you do，” said Anne. “You were crazy about herlast term.”
“No， I wasn’t，” said Marjorie. “I‘ve got more sense than that. Not a bad little kid in her way. But I was getting pretty tired of her before the end of term.”
“Well， you jolly well won’t have the chance any other rm！” shouted Lucy. “Two.faced little beast.” But the sound f her own voice at once reminded her that she was talking o a picture and that the real Marjorie was far away in nother world.
