Pippa was covered with rosy blushes of delight.
“Mais, je vous rémerce mille fois,” she said. “Barnabas, isn’t it beautiful, but, oh, very beautiful?”
“It’s very good of you,” said Barnabas. “You’ve given a great deal of pleasure.” And then quite suddenly, and for the first time, he remembered the three sleepers in the wood, who doubtless had long ago awakened. He signed to Pippa, who got up. The old man took them into the garden. At the green door he held out his hand.
“Will you come again and see me?” he said. “I live, as you see, alone among my flowers. Ali looks after my bodily needs, and I have a man who helps me in my garden. I do not, as a rule, see people—beyond the few friends I mentioned to you. But it would give me great pleasure if you will come. My name is Adam Gray, and my house is called The Close.”
And Barnabas promised that one day they would come again.
So they left the enchanted garden and went up the lane among the butterflies.
“I feel as if I’d been dreaming,” said Pippa thoughtfully.
“Exactly, my dear,” said Barnabas. “It’s what we’ve both been doing—dreaming a very fantastic Arabian Night’s dream, which nobody would believe if we told it to them.”
And then from afar an extremely wakeful Dan saw them and hailed them in wrathful accents.
“Where on earth have you two been?” he cried. “We’ve been hunting for you for the last hour and a half.”