“Are you safe, Princess?” came the gray owl’s question.
“Yes,” she cried. Then she saw a heavy stone of the wall move inward more and more until it slid to the ground with a dull sound, and left a large open space in the wall.
“Here’s the boy of the Club,” announced Sarah, appearing at the door, followed by Ben.
Ruth Warren went forward to greet the red-cheeked boy, whose hair lay wet upon his forehead.
“‘YES, GRAY OWL,’ SHE ANSWERED.”
“I thought I’d come for a little while,” said Ben, his eyes upon the last cookie in the plate, a long-necked horse. “Skating wasn’t much good, and I got in twice.” His wet shoes proved this.
“Sit here by the hearth and dry your feet, Ben,” said Miss Ruth, turning to brighten the fire.
“Let me do that,” said Ben gallantly, reaching for the tongs.
Sarah took the plate from the table and vanished. Alice began explaining things to Ben: