CHAPTER XX
THE WAXEN MAN
‘You know what Rupert was saying that day,’ said Charles one day when Rupert as usual was down at Mr. Penfold’s, ‘about doing something real with our magic?’
‘Like making her come alive,’ said Charlotte, looking up at the picture of Dame Eleanour.
‘No, like making wax images of people and sticking pins in them. I should like to do that. I feel as if the Language Of was bust up, somehow.’
‘Oh, don’t say that,’ said Caroline, pained.
‘Well, not for always, perhaps,’ said Charles kindly; ‘but we did give the Uncle such a tremendous blow-out for his presentation, and we did the leopard, and we sowed the F. of H.D., and anything else seems rather piffling after that. I wish we could make a wax image of some one.’
‘Not to stick pins in,’ said Caroline firmly. ‘That would be ink-black magic, I’m certain. And very very wrong and unkind besides.’