My Mother turned around. Her hair was all curly. There were laughs in her eyes.
"I have to!" she said. "I'm bewitched!"
"I'll go with you!" said my Father.
My Mother turned around again. She looked at my Father! At his golden crown! At his white spangled wings! At the pink silk skirt over his arm!
"Like—that?" said my Mother.
My Father decided not to go.
The Rich Man said he considered the decision very wise.
Way over on the other side of the green lilac hedge we heard my Mother trotting down the driveway. Clack-clack—clack—clack sounded the hoof-beats!
"My Lord—she's pacing!" groaned my Father.