'Oh, very well, if you do that!' And they started.
'After all,' said the Owl an hour later, 'as we are here, and invisible, we may as well rest on the dome of St. Paul's. Dynamite does strike downwards, and I don't see any black bags about,' he added, looking round suspiciously.
'All right,' said the fairy. 'Now you can tell me all about things,' for they had been flying too fast to exchange many remarks. 'What is this building?'
'It is one of St. George's best churches,' said the Owl.
A burst of melancholy music swelled out below them as he spoke, and Queen Mab started with delight.
'That is like Fairyland,' she said promptly. 'What is it?'
'It is the organ and the choristers,' said the Owl. 'If you fly down a moment you can look in; but don't wait long, because of the dynamite. It would be just like them,' he added pensively, 'to blow it up when we are here.'
Queen Mab obeyed, leaving the owl, still a little nervous, seated invisible on the dome.
'I have heard the music,' she said when she flew back, 'and seen the singers, and the great golden pipes the music comes out of. What a beautiful big place it is! We have nothing like that in Polynesia.'
'No, I should think not,' returned the bird. 'Look round you. That street where all the people and the vehicles are rushing up and down is Cheapside.'