“Hundreds, I should think. So he’s been talking to you?”
“Yes, often. He’s very kind to us. We like him awfully.”
“Well, what he wants is a holiday; you persuade him to take one. What he wants is a change of scene. You see, his head is crusted so thickly inside with knowledge about Egypt and Assyria and things that you can’t hammer anything into it unless you keep hard at it all day long for days and days. And I haven’t time. But you live in the house. You can hammer almost incessantly. Just try your hands, will you? Right. So long!”
He went down the stairs three at a time, and Jane remarked that he was a nice man, and she thought he had little girls of his own.
“I should like to have them to play with,” she added pensively.
The three elder ones exchanged glances. Cyril nodded.
“All right. Let’s go to Atlantis,” he said.
“Let’s go to Atlantis and take the learned gentleman with us,” said Anthea; “he’ll think it’s a dream, afterwards, but it’ll certainly be a change of scene.”
“Why not take him to nice Egypt?” asked Jane.
“Too hot,” said Cyril shortly.