“And he’s robbing your father?”
“Yes.”
“So you’re acting for your father’s good?”
“Y—yes.”
“Then——”
“Now, Geoffrey, all your talking doesn’t hide the badness in the least bit.”
She was silent again; then suddenly seemed greatly relieved. “I don’t care,” she declared. “Papa locked me up for a whole week, when all I wanted was to help him and everybody get rid of the Dragon. And I am too old to be treated so. And now I am just going to pretend there’s a dragon when there’s not. Oh, what’s that?”
This time it was no sham. Faint and far from the direction of Oyster-le-Main came the roar of the Dragon of Wantley over fields and farms.
