I called Star and Robert into the house. They came, still holding hands, a little shamefaced, a little defiant.
How to begin? What in hell could I say?
"It's not exactly fair," I told them. "Marily can't follow you there." I was shooting in the dark, but I had at least a glimmering to go by.
Star turned pale enough for the freckles on her little nose to stand out under her tan. Robert blushed and turned to her fiercely.
"I told you so, Star. I told you so! I said it wasn't sporting," he accused. He turned to me. "Marily can't play good hide-and-seek anyway. She's only a Stupid."
"Let's forget that for a minute, Robert." I turned to her. "Star, just where do you go?"
"Oh, it's nothing, Daddy." She spoke defensively, belittling the whole thing. "We just go a little ways when we play with her. She ought to be able to find us a little ways."
"That's evading the issue. Where do you go—and how do you go?"
Jim stepped forward and showed her the bronze coin I'd sent him.