“He’s not a friend of mine!” cried Erebus hotly.
“We call him the Cruncher—because of his teeth,” said the Terror.
“Then beware, Erebus—beware! You are young and possibly savory,” said Sir Maurice.
“You children had better go and get ready for dinner,” said Mrs. Dangerfield.
The Twins went to the door. On the threshold Erebus turned and said: “It’s Mum he wants to crunch up—not me.”
The bolt shot, she fled through the door.
Sir Maurice looked at his sister and said softly:
“Oho! I see—heroism. That was what you wanted to consult me about.” Then he laid his hand on her shoulder affectionately and added: “It won’t do, Anne—it won’t do at all. I am convinced of it.”
“Do you think so?” said Mrs. Dangerfield in a tone in which disappointment and relief were very nicely blended.
“Think? I’m sure of it,” said Sir Maurice in a tone of complete conviction.