"You conjugate the verb to love, I suppose. What's that?"
Gerald raised his finger. "The message which Mavis sent me."
"Sent anyone," muttered Mrs. Pelham Odin obstinately: but she listened.
"This to the wide world," babbled the machine in the sweetest and most melodious of voices. "This to the Fairy Prince, who will come and waken me from dreams. Come, dear Prince, to the Pixy's House, and watch that the jealous ogress, who guards me, does not see you. I cannot read, I cannot write: but I talk my message to you, dear Prince. To the stream I commit the message on this first day of April in this year five. May the river bear the message to you, dear Prince. Come to me! Come to me! Come to me! and waken your Princess to life with a kiss."
The machine stopped, for Gerald laid a hand on it. "That," he said solemnly, "is the Sealed Message."
"As I thought," said Mrs. Pelham Odin, in her lively tones, "it might have been sent to the Man in the Moon."
"Instead," said Mavis, kissing her husband, "to the dearest Fairy Prince on Earth."
"Which has none outside pantomimes," ended Mrs. Pelham Odin, determined to have the last word. She managed to do so, for the husband and wife were kissing one another.