"Who are you?" she said. "Where do you come from? What is your name?"
"Oh, I'm not a fairy, my good child!" said Annie. "I'm a poor, exhausted girl, who thought she was performing a very heroic feat and finds herself mistaken."
"Pray come in and take a seat," said Boris, who was always the soul of gentlemanly politeness. He stood up as he spoke, tumbling his rabbits and hares helter skelter in all directions, and tried to push back the laurustinus hedge for Annie. She squeezed through, tearing her cotton dress as she did so.
"Oh, dear, dear, your sweet dress is spoiled!" said Nell, in a tender voice.
"Never mind," answered Annie; "one must lose something to attain to this perfection."
"Won't you seat yourself?" said Boris.
He pointed to the grass, and Annie sat upon it with a sense of delight.
"How hot you are," said Nell. "What can we do for you? Would it soothe you to stroke one of the rats? This darling, for instance. His name is Crinklety."
Annie took the rat on her lap and looked at it reflectively.