She opened the door softly and the next second started back in fright. Something had moved way back in the dark. In her excited state this was too much, and she was about to cry for help when a very, very sleepy voice came from within, saying:
“Is that you, mother?”
“Goodness gracious! What are you doing here?”
She rushed to the sofa where Edgar was lying curled up trying to keep himself wide awake. She thought the child must be ill and needed attention.
“I waited for you so long, and then I fell asleep.”
“What were you waiting for?”
“You know. To hear about the elephants.”
“Elephants?” As she asked the question Edgar’s mother remembered her promise. She was to tell him all about the elephant hunts and the baron’s other adventures that very night. And so the simple child had crept into her room and in unquestioning faith had waited for her until he had dropped asleep. The absurdity of it enraged her, or rather she was angry with herself, and for that reason she wanted to outshriek the tiny whisper of her conscience telling her she had done a shameful wrong.
“Go to bed at once, you nuisance!” she cried.
Edgar stared at her. Why was she so angry? He hadn’t done anything wrong. But his very amazement only made her angrier.