“It was the moonlight, I tell you,” persisted Nanny, and again Diamond held his peace.
“All at once I felt that the moon was not shining so strong. I looked up, and there was a cloud, all crapey and fluffy, trying to drown the beautiful creature. But the moon was so round, just like a whole plate, that the cloud couldn't stick to her. She shook it off, and said there and shone out clearer and brighter than ever. But up came a thicker cloud,—and 'You shan't,' said the moon; and 'I will,' said the cloud,—but it couldn't: out shone the moon, quite laughing at its impudence. I knew her ways, for I've always been used to watch her. She's the only thing worth looking at in our street at night.”
“Don't call it your street,” said Diamond. “You're not going back to it. You're coming to us, you know.”
“That's too good to be true,” said Nanny.
“There are very few things good enough to be true,” said Diamond; “but I hope this is. Too good to be true it can't be. Isn't true good? and isn't good good? And how, then, can anything be too good to be true? That's like old Sal—to say that.”
“Don't abuse Grannie, Diamond. She's a horrid old thing, she and her gin bottle; but she'll repent some day, and then you'll be glad not to have said anything against her.”
“Why?” said Diamond.
“Because you'll be sorry for her.”
“I am sorry for her now.”
“Very well. That's right. She'll be sorry too. And there'll be an end of it.”