“Where?” asked the brown-and-gold fairy, hanging back doubtfully.
“To her studio where she sculps wonderful and beautiful things. If I'm any judge she'll sculp you as a butterfly that's lost its way in this wicked—”
“I'm not a butterfly,” interrupted my companion. “I'm a very serious person on a very serious errand.”
“—world,” I proceeded. “And she'll talk to you about the Little Red Doctor—”
“Will she?” murmured the brown-and-gold fairy, moving after me.
“—whom she loves devotedly—”
“Does she!” said the brown-and-gold fairy, stopping short.
“—as every one in Our Square does and ought to—”
“Oh!” remarked the fairy, catching up with me again.
“—for reasons which you should know as well as any one.”