Pip took his soup, and began to drink it.
"Stop a minute, Pip!" screamed Pipette.
Pip put down his basin.
"Well, what is it now?" he remarked.
Pipette at last unfolded her plan.
"Pip," she began a little shyly,—like all inventors, she dreaded criticism,—"you 'member poor Mr. Pipes saying how cold he was?"
"Yes."
"Well, let's send him this nice hot soup, Pip,—by Terriphone!"
The last words came with a rush. Then Pipette, heaving such a sigh as Sinbad must have emitted when he had got rid of the Old Man of the Sea, awaited her brother's reply.
Pip smiled indulgently.