“Is that a tribute to my personality or to my reputation.”
“Well,” said Ann, “you do brighten things up.”
“One for old Solemn!” said Kurt. “I hoped you’d have cured him.”
“Oh! I don’t want him to be cured. I don’t want him to be different.”
René’s vanity was bristling, but in the face of their good humor he could not let it appear. He envied Kurt his ease and the skill with which he gauged Ann’s humor to strike laughter out of her, so much so that he could not mind being the subject of it. Her laughter was affectionate.
They were in Rita’s room, and she lay gazing fascinated at Kurt’s brown face, with its merry eyes flashing blue light as he laughed and talked. The children had been told that the great flying man was coming. They had been staring at him with round eyes. At last one of them said:
“Did you fly here?”
“Not this time, my lad.”
“Oncet,” said the piping voice, “oncet we ’ad a bird-cage.”
“With a bird in it?”