“Yes; she does just as he says, and believes in him, too, but that’s only natural, because I can just guess what she is.”
“What?”
“His daughter. She’s a chip of the old block, and helps him in his hocus-pocus conjurocus, I’ll bet.”
“You’re good at guessing, and I think your guess is correct.”
“You bet! I’m Cute by name, and ’cute by nature. Tell you what, Percy—if we could have taken off that antelope’s head, do you know what we would have found beneath it?”
Percy smiled.
“We should have found her face, of course,” he answered.
“Yes, and something else—we should have found the face of the Angel that appeared on the cliff, last night.”
This assurance surprised Percy Vere.
“Do you think so?” he cried, and his voice was strongly charged with incredulity.