“I wish I knew whether you were laughing at me or not,” he said ruefully.
“When?”
“All the time.”
“I am. Your darkest suspicions are correct. Did you abolish my devilkin?”
“I drove him back into his trapdoor home and put a rock over it.”
“Why didn’t you destroy him?”
“Because I’ve appointed him guardian of the rock, with strict instructions to bite any one that ever comes there after this except you.”
“Bravo! You’re progressing. As soon as you’re free from the blight of my regard, you become quite human. But I’ll never come again.”
“No, I suppose not,” he said dismally. “I shan’t hear you again, unless, perhaps, the echoes have kept your voice to play with.”
“Oh, oh! Is this the language of science? You know I almost think I should like to come—if I could. But I can’t.”