Lynn was quite moved by the story, and gulped down a sob which made Paul most gracious and grateful to her.
But Muffie sniffed. “Well, she was a silly,” she said. “Why didn’t she bang and kick on the wall like the time I hid in the cupboard and the door got shut? Every one heard me in a minute.”
“Wainscotching’s much thicker than common cupboards,” said Paul disdainfully.
“I’d have got my axe and chopped and chopped and walked light out and chopped off the woman’s head and put her down my hole,” said Max.
Then it was Lynn’s turn.
She dictated rapidly, occasionally waving her arms dramatically to heighten the effect.
“‘A key lay on the ground. The moon was up. Purple was on the mountains, and all in the valley lay the snow-white mist. Black pine trees stood in a long, long row, like the ghosts of tall soldiers. The sun was setting, and orange and purple flamed in the sky. The moon was very young and thin and was just climbing up the other side of the sky. The sun——’”
“Oh, I say,” said Pauline, “isn’t anything [p165] ever going to happen? I’m tired of the sun and the moon. I always skip that kind of thing in books.”
“Oh, Paul!” said Lynn, “that’s the best part. You can make such lovely pictures.”
“Go on,” said Paul.