"Have you seen my horse?" asked George.
"Have I seen your horse? ... Oh! ... I've seen that you've left it lying about on the hall-table."
"I put it there so that you'd see it," George persuasively excused himself for the untidiness.
"Well, let's inspect it," Edwin forgave him, and picked up from the table a piece of cartridge-paper on which was a drawing of a great cart-horse with shaggy feet. It was a vivacious sketch.
"You're improving," said Edwin, judicially, but in fact much impressed. Surely few boys of ten could draw as well as that! The design was strangely more mature than certain quite infantile watercolours that Edwin had seen scarcely a year earlier.
"It's rather good, isn't it?" George suggested, lifting up his head so that he could just see over the edge of the paper which Edwin held at the level of his watch-chain.
"I've met worse. Where did you see this particular animal?"
"I saw him down near the Brewery this morning. But when I'm doing a horse, I see him on the paper before I begin to draw, and I just draw round him."
Edwin thought:
"This kid is no ordinary kid."