Fancy said neither yes nor no.
She looked as if she were reflecting on the possibility of accomplishing the almost impossible.
Walter, taking courage from her hesitation, repeated his request.
“Ah, let me live with my little sister again, even if I have to eat grass or build continents—I will eat and build with pleasure, if I may only be with Omicron.”
Probably Fancy was afraid to promise something beyond her power; and she was sorry not to be able to give her promise.
“I will ask,” she whispered, “and now——”
Walter rubbed his eyes. There was the bridge and the ditch. He heard the ducks cackling from the distance. He saw his mills again. Yes, yes, there they were. But their name was no longer—what was their name?
The mills were called “Morning Hour” and “Eagle,” and they called out just like other sawmills: “Karre, karre, kra, kra——”
Thereupon Walter went home. We have already seen what awaited him there.