"Sleeping!" sniggered Tod, lighting his pipe, "then she must have written that silly message in her sleep. Or perhaps she talks in it," he added, recollecting that the message was a spoken one. "A nice wife to have, upon my word. You won't get a wink of sleep."
"Toddy, you are of the earth, earthy, and an unimaginative beast. Romance doesn't appeal to you. I shall search for the Pixy's House!"
"In what direction?" jeered Macandrew.
"Up the stream. This Princess is apparently imprisoned in the house and must have flung the cylinder therefrom into the water. Ergo, the Pixy's House must be near the water. I shall go to Exeter and bring back a canoe. Then I shall explore and find----"
"A mare's nest! Don't be an ass. It's all bosh."
"It's romance! romance! romance! But not a word, Toddy, either to any one here, or to any one in London. Promise!"
"Oh, I promise. But----"
"Silence! you profane the Mysteries of Fairyland. I shall explore and learn the end of this adventure. And you, Tod Macandrew?"
"I'll see what's the best lunatic asylum for you to occupy," said Tod caustically.