William drew his brows together in deep thought.
"I should think Alberto oughter say 'Ha! villain! Never shalt thou worst me'—or something like that."
"People don't talk like that in real life."
"Oh, reel life!" said William scornfully. "I thought we was talkin' about books."
"Don't you think your friends want you to play with them?" said Mr. Strange with emphasis. "Don't you think you've left them for quite long enough?"
William arose and brushed the cake crumbs from his coat to the carpet.
"P'raps I'd better be goin'," he agreed. "But I'll be thinkin' over wot comes nex'. You say you want it real life an' not books. I think you oughter have more people in it. Can't you have them all on a desert island an' make Rudolpho get eaten by cannibals in mistake for Alberto.... Oh, well, jus' as you like, of course. I'll bring you my tales to read one day an' I'll bring you some water things to-morrow. Did you know tadpoles ate tadpoles? Talk about cannibals!... I say, that's a jolly fine penknife."
Vivian Strange, whose proud spirit was broken, handed him the knife with a despairing gesture.
"Take it!" he moaned. "Take it and go!"
William was touched.