"—'cause you see," Small Porges, continued, "after all, I found him for you—under a hedge, you know—"
"Ah!—why did you, Georgy dear? We were so happy—before—he came—"
"But you couldn't have been, you know; you weren't married—even then, so you couldn't have been really happy, you know;" said Small Porges shaking his head.
"Why Georgy—what do you mean?"
"Well, Uncle Porges told me that nobody can live happy—ever after, unless they're married—first. So that was why I 'ranged for him to marry you, so you could both be happy, an' all revelry an' joy,—like the fairy tale, you know."
"But, you see, we aren't in a fairy tale, dear, so I'm afraid we must make the best of things as they are!" and here she sighed again, and rose. "Come, Georgy, it's much later than I thought, and quite time you were in bed, dear."
"All right, Auntie Anthea,—only—don't you think it's jest a bit—cruel to send a boy to bed so very early, an' when the moon's so big, an' everything looks so—frightfully fine? 'sides—"
"Well, what now?" she asked, a little wearily as, obedient to his pleading gesture, she sat down again.
"Why, you haven't answered my question yet, you know."
"What question?" said she, not looking at him.