And, at these words, the poor little fellow began to cry again.
The Blue Child had never seen any one cry. He lived in a world where grief did not exist. His surprise was great; and he exclaimed:
"What's the matter with your eyes?... Are they making pearls?"
To him those tears were wonderful things.
"No, it's not pearls," said Tyltyl, sheepishly.
"What is it then?"
But our poor friend would not admit what he looked upon as a weakness. He rubbed his eyes awkwardly and put everything down to the dazzling blue of the palace.
The puzzled Child insisted:
"What's that falling down?"
"Nothing; it's a little water," said Tyltyl, impatiently, hoping to cut short the explanation.