“Oh, you are a funny boy!” she said with a ripple of laughter, “and you look so rough and untidy. You’re rather like Jumble. Do you like Jumble?”
“Yes,” said William. His voice had a sudden quaver in it. His ownership of Jumble was a thing of the past.
“You can have him for always and always,” she said suddenly. “Now kiss me!”
He kissed her cheek awkwardly with the air of one determined to do his duty, but with a great, glad relief at his heart.
“I’d love to see you dance,” she laughed. “You would look funny.”
She took a few more fairy steps.
“You’ve seen Pavlova, haven’t you?”
“Dunno.”
“You must know.”
“I mustn’t,” said William irritably. “I might have seen him and not known it was him, mightn’t I?”