“But I did heard to the contrary!” Bruno insisted, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.
“What did you hear, you wicked boy?”
“It were a sort of noise in the air,” said Bruno: “a sort of a scrambling noise. Didn’t oo hear it, Mister Sir?”
“Well, anyhow, you needn’t go to sleep over them, you lazy-lazy!” For Bruno had curled himself up, on the largest ‘lesson,’ and was arranging another as a pillow.
“I wasn’t asleep!” said Bruno, in a deeply-injured tone. “When I shuts mine eyes, it’s to show that I’m awake!”
“Well, how much have you learned, then?”
“I’ve learned a little tiny bit,” said Bruno, modestly, being evidently afraid of overstating his achievement. “Ca’n’t learn no more!”
“Oh Bruno! You know you can, if you like.”
“Course I can, if I like,” the pale student replied; “but I ca’n’t if I don’t like!”
Sylvie had a way—which I could not too highly admire—of evading Bruno’s logical perplexities by suddenly striking into a new line of thought; and this masterly stratagem she now adopted.