'Yes. We were having the most perfectly fascinating time——' Sara took up the tale.
But Cecil suddenly sat bolt upright, his little face quite pink with excitement at recollection of these Alpine exploits.
'Yes, Sara had come down off the wardrobe—she'd been sitting on the carved piece—she says that's the Schreckhorn!—but she'd come down off it, and we was just jumping about all those mountains like two shamrocks——'
'Like what?'
'—when she came in.'
'Yes,' agreed Sara. 'Just when we're happiest she always comes interfiddling.'
'Oh, Sara mine, I rather like you!' said Miss Levering, laying her laughing face against the tousled hair.
'Now! Now!' cried Cecil, suddenly beating with his two fists on the counterpane as though he'd seen as much valuable time wasted as he felt it incumbent upon him to tolerate. 'Go on where you left off.'
'No, it's my visit this time.' Sara held fast to her friend. 'It's for me to say what we're going to talk about.'