“There, in that corner one, all covered by vines, with places for the windows cut out, and the chimneys all green, and I think it’s the prettiest one in the whole place, when it has its summer clothes on. Don’t you?”
The Gray Gentleman’s glance followed the direction of the pointing finger.
“Yes. It is a very lovely home and a very big one. I hope you are not the only child who lives in it.”
“But I am. Why?”
“Why what?”
“Do you hope it?”
“You would be lonely, I should think.”
“Lonely? I? Why—why—I just never have a single minute to myself. There’s my thirteen dolls, and the parrot, and the two canaries, and the aquarium, and my pony, and—Oh! dear! you can’t guess. That’s why I have to come out here—to rest myself.”
“Ah, so! Well, I should judge that you spend the most of your time in ‘resting,’” commented the other. “Whenever I come out you’re always here.”
Bonny-Gay laughed; so merrily that Max lifted his head and licked her cheek. That reminded her of something and she asked: