“The river. We are far below the river. Listen. Do you not hear it flowing?”
“I hear only the rumble of traffic.”
“Perhaps I only imagine it, but always when I visit this place I seem to hear the river rushing by. And always I think, ‘What if the walls should crumble?’”
“But they will not crumble.”
“We shall hope not.
“But see.” The rich girl’s mood changed. “Here is a charger! Let us mount and ride!”
She sprang toward a tall object completely covered by a white cloth. When the cloth had been dragged off, a great steed all clad in glittering armor stood before them.
“Come!” Rosemary’s voice rose high. “Here we are! You are a brave knight. I am a defenseless lady. Give me your hand. Help me to mount behind you. Then I will cling to you while we ride through some deep, dark forest where there are dragons and cross-bowmen and all sorts of terrifying perils.”
Joining her in this spirit of make-believe, Jeanne assisted her to the back of the inanimate charger.
Having touched some secret button, Rosemary set the charger in motion. They were riding now. Swaying from side to side, rising, falling, they seemed indeed to be passing through some dark and doleful place. As Jeanne closed her eyes the illusion became quite complete. As she felt Rosemary clinging to her as she might cling to some gallant knight, she forgot for the time that she was Petite Jeanne and that she had suffered a dire disappointment.