“Keep it carefully, then,” said the gentleman impressively; “and if ever you should wish to part with it, may I ask you to give me the refusal of it?”
“The refusal?”
“I mean, do not sell it to anyone else until you have given me the opportunity of buying it.”
“All right,” said Cyril, “we won’t. But we don’t want to sell it. We want to make it do things.”
“I suppose you can play at that as well as at anything else,” said the gentleman; “but I’m afraid the days of magic are over.”
“They aren’t really,” said Anthea earnestly. “You’d see they aren’t if I could tell you about our last summer holidays. Only I mustn’t. Thank you very much. And can you read the name?”
“Yes, I can read it.”
“Will you tell it us?”
“The name,” said the gentleman, “is Ur Hekau Setcheh.”
“Ur Hekau Setcheh,” repeated Cyril. “Thanks awfully. I do hope we haven’t taken up too much of your time.”