"It's holidays, Miss Hartill! But don't you remember?"
"I explained to you that the fourth dimension was inexplicable—a very different thing."
"The Plattner Story explains it—clearly." Louise's tone was distinctly reproachful.
"Oh no, it doesn't, Louise. Mr. Wells only deludes you into thinking it does."
"Well, anyhow, I think—don't you think that it's rather likely that fairyland is the fourth dimension? It would all fit in so beautifully with all the old stories of enchantment and disappearances. Then there was another book I read about it. The Inheritors——"
"Have done, Louise! You make me dizzy. Don't try to live exclusively on truffles. If you could continue to confine your attention to books you have some slight chance of understanding, for the next few years, it would be an excellent thing. Neither Meredith nor the fourth dimension is meat for babes, you know."
"I like what I don't understand. It's the finding out is the fun." Louise looked mutinous.
"And having found out?"
"Then I start on something else."
Clare considered her.