"I can't build without her," said Randolph.
"She does know how to build wonderful," said the child with a wise nod. "She taught me all about it; she said God taught her, so, of course, she couldn't build wrong."
"Of course she couldn't," said Randolph gravely, as his eyes met Sidney's. "We can all learn from the Master Builder, and then there will be no mistakes."
"But you will be done building before me," pursued Chuckles, who, once on his favourite topic, was not easily quenched; "because the older people are, the higher their house is, and when it's very high and close to heaven, God takes them in. I made that up myself."
Sidney smiled, but Monica's brows were furrowed.
"Of course," Chuckles continued in his most dreamy voice, as he gazed up into the summer sky, "some people get their houses knocked down, and then, I suppose, they begin again. Miss Sid says they can. That's because they didn't build tight on the rock. I do hope my building won't slip off the rock."
"Run off to bed," said his aunt shortly.
She felt she could bear no more.
Chuckles obediently wished them all good-night; then, as a parting shot, he called out to Randolph:
"I see you out of my window when you take Miss Sid through the garden. You stick so close you only make one shadow!"