"I say, Tim?"
"Well."
"What does he really look like? I can't remember quite. I mean—shall we recognise him?"
Tim stared at her. "My dear!" he gasped, as though the question almost shocked him. "Why, he touched me—on the head! I felt it!"
Judy laughed softly; it was only that she wanted to remind herself of something too precious to be forgotten.
"I kissed him!" she whispered, a hint of triumph in her voice and eyes.
They stood staring at one another for a little while, weighing the proofs thus given; then Tim broke the silence with a question of his own. It was the result of this interval of reflection. It was an unexpected sort of question:
"Do you know what it is we want?" he asked. "I do," he added hurriedly, lest she should answer first.
"What?" she said, seeing from his tone and manner that it was important.
"We shall never, never find him this way," he said decisively.