“They don’t come to the wood; we go to the wood and find them.”
“Are there more boys or girls of you now?”
I had found that to ask precisely the same question twice, made them knit their brows.
“I do not know,” she answered.
“You can count them, surely!”
“We never do that. We shouldn’t like to be counted.”
“Why?”
“It wouldn’t be smooth. We would rather not know.”
“Where do the babies come from first?”
“From the wood—always. There is no other place they can come from.”