'It all vanished anyhow. And the next time was'—she paused a moment— 'you—we saw your two gold teeth again somewhere, and half recognised you——'
It was the daylight world that seemed vague and dreamlike now, hard to remember clearly.
'In another train—' Jimbo helped her, 'the Geneva omnibus that starts at—at——' But even Jimbo could not recall further details.
'You're wumbled,' said Rogers, helping himself and the others at the same time. 'You want some starlight to put you in touch again. Come on; let's go in. We shall find all the others inside, I suspect, hard at it.'
'At what?' asked two breathless voices.
'Collecting, of course—for others. Did you think they ate the stuff, just to amuse themselves?'
'They glided towards the opening, cutting through the little tributary stream that was pouring out on its way down the sky to that room in La Citadelle. It was brighter than the main river, they saw, and shone with a peculiar brilliance of its own, whiter and swifter than the rest. Designs, moreover, like crystals floated on the crest of every wave.
'That's the best quality,' he told them, as their faces shone a moment in its glory. 'The person who deserves it must live entirely for others. That he keeps only for the sad and lonely. The rest, the common stuff, is good enough for Fraulein or for baby, or for mother, or any other——' The words rose in him like flowers that he knew.
'Look out, mon vieux! 'It was Monkey's voice. They just had time to stand aside as a figure shot past them and disappeared into the darkness above the trees. A big bundle, dripping golden dust, hung down his back.
'The Dustman!' they cried with excitement, easily recognising his energetic yet stooping figure; and Jimbo added, 'the dear old Dustman!' while Monkey somersaulted after him, returning breathless a minute later with, 'He's gone; I couldn't get near him. He went straight to La Citadelle——'