"Yes."
She took her eyes from the sky to see what her feet were doing; Tim lifted his from the earth to see what was going on above him in the air.
Judy went on: "I know what," she announced.
"What?" He was not particularly interested, it seemed.
Judy paused. She dropped a little behind her dancing Aunt. Tim joined her. It all happened as quickly as a man might snap his fingers; Aunt Emily, her heart full of growing ferns, noticed nothing.
"We've found her out!" whispered Judy, communicating her immense discovery. "What she really is, I mean!"
He agreed and nodded. It did not strike him as anything wonderful or special. "Oh, yes," he answered; "rather!" He did not grasp her meaning, perhaps.
But his sister was bursting with excitement, radiant, shivering almost with the wonder of it.
"But don't you see? It's—a sign!" she exclaimed so loud that Aunt Emily almost heard it. "She's found herself! She was hiding—from herself. That's part of it all—the game. It's the biggest sign of all!"
She was so "warm" that she burned all over.