"Oh, your sprained ankle, Peter!" cried Paulina.
But Peter was at the window, in fact, half out of it; and his left ankle, which was bound up with bandages, suddenly appeared to be quite as free from pain as his right ankle, which had nothing whatever the matter with it, and he leaned over the window-sill, murmuring—
"Dancing, prancing.
Flitting, glancing,
Now retreating, now advancing,
Wait, and I will come to you,
Through the window, through, through, through."
"Oh, Peter! how can you?" said Paulina.
But Peter was gone, and when Paulina looked out of the window, she could see neither him, nor the mannikins, nor the scarlet runner.
Of course she could not, for they were not there. Where had they gone? oh where? oh where?
paulina had a stick ... in her hand