"But I don't see," objected Erica in a drowsy voice, and opening one sleepy eye, "why the youngest prince found her and they didn't."
"Oh well, you see, that's just where the point of the 'thorn' comes in. The two oldest princes had Grecian noses, but the youngest prince had a crooked one. Consequently he'd been going round and round in a circle, and when he'd gone round twelve times that broke the spell, you know, and the earth opened. Don't you remember the fairy rings?"
"But how could the princess marry a prince with a crooked nose?" murmured Erica, with a last effort.
"Oh, I've no doubt the fairy godmother could put that straight. I don't see the use of having a fairy godmother if she couldn't do little jobs like that," replied Duane. Erica, however, had not heard. She was fast asleep. "Supposing one of them had had a retroussé nose," remarked Kitty meditatively. "What would have happened then?"
"He'd have made a journey to heaven, doubtless," retorted the story-teller.
There was silence for a little while, save for Erica's steady breathing. Then Kitty said softly, so as not to disturb her:
"How do you do it?"
"Do what?"
"Talk—like that."
"Talk rubbish, do you mean?"