“Your window’s uncommonly small,” said the Giant, climbing in through it, and bringing with him big bits of the wall on each shoulder. “Gracious me, what a mess I’m in!” He shook himself and lay down on the floor with his face close to the fire. “I’ve been looking in at the party next door,” he went on. “Great fun—but they’re gone now. I saw ’em into their cabs. Why weren’t you there?”
“Because I’ve a cold,” said Peggy, sneezing three times. (The Giant seemed to have brought in all the cold night air with him.) “Nannie thinks I caught it hiding behind the laurels so long yesterday, but I know it was going through that lovely wet yellow cloud!”
The Giant’s face clouded over. “Least said soonest mended about that,” he said shortly. “I particularly told you of my aversion to Mayors, and you at once take one for a drive and leave me behind! That was not in the least what I meant. However, I will say no more. This is your last day but one with me, so we won’t waste it with quarrelling. What’s your wish? Be quick now, for this lovely hot fire makes me very sleepy.”
Peggy jumped out of bed, caught hold of the Giant’s little finger and hugged it.
“I’m so sorry,” she said coaxingly. “I like you better than any Mayor that ever was born, Giant darling. And I didn’t mean to leave you behind. Did you have an awful time?”
“Well, I went wandering about the sky for the rest of the night looking for you,” said the Giant. “I heard you’d been on the rainbow, but after that I lost all trace of you. Still, never mind; as you’re sorry, I don’t mind any more. Go on, wish away.”
“It’s no good, I’ve tried to,” said Peggy. “We seem to have done everything exciting. We’ve been up——”
“How about going down for a change?” asked the Giant.
“Down?” said Peggy. “But we are down!”
