"Can't you turn into a boy again?"
"Perhaps I might, if you will show me how."
Rosalind clapped her hands. "I don't think I am a bit disappointed in you, and I am almost sure you will like the Forest."
"What forest?"
"I'll show you the book and tell you about it sometime; and then maybe you will join our society."
"This sounds interesting; I believe I shall like Friendship."
Rosalind surveyed him thoughtfully. "I think I'll begin by taking you to see the magician," she said.
By what witchery did she divine that the shortest path to his boyhood was by way of the magician's?
"The magician? Oh, that is Morgan, I suppose." Allan's eyes rested absently on the drooping hydrangea a few feet away.
Presently a soft hand stole beneath his chin, and Rosalind demanded merrily, as she tried to turn his face to hers, "What are you thinking about? Are you disappointed in me?"