Alice closed her book and rested her hands on it. "Something of a mixture between the two, I suppose," she mused aloud. "He would tell me and my sisters made-up stories to keep us patient while we posed for him, and one day strung them all together. And I went to Wonderland." She said that as if it was nothing uncommon, that White Rabbits and Cheshire-Cats and the like were everyday occurrences.

"I told Mr Dodgson about the Looking-glass world, though," she added. "That's all true."