The white elephant’s relative was a conspicuous character—after the lifting of the cover—that evening.
The next morning Charlie appeared before Will, hanging out a long, dismal face, and speaking with difficulty.
“She’s gone!”
“Who, Aunt Stanshy?”
“No, Bunny!”
“Your rabbit? How?”
“I don’t know. I left her all right in the maginary, last night.”
“Let me go out and look round. But where did you put your box?”
“Well, Aunt Stanshy thought it would do just as well if I put the box out into the wood-shed—and—”
“Was the door left open?”