"Where are we going, Mr. Livingstone?" she whispered. She was afraid to speak aloud lest she might break the spell and awake.
"Just where you like."
"To the Children's Hospital," she panted.
"To the Children's Hospital, driver," repeated Livingstone.
Kitty gave another gasp.
"We'll play you're Santa Claus," she said, in a voice of low delight.
"No. Play you are Santa Claus's partner," said Livingstone.
"And you?"
"You are not to say anything about me."