What were you do­ing there?”

I can still see his won­der­ful smile, the whites of his beau­ti­ful eyes, and the un­cov­er­ing of his lit­tle teeth shine to me in the dusk. “If I tell you why, will you un­der­stand?” My heart, at this, leaped into my mouth. Would he tell me why? I found no sound on my lips to press it, and I was aware of re­ply­ing only with a vague, re­peated, gri­mac­ing nod. He was gen­tle­ness it­self, and while I wagged my head at him he stood there more than ever a lit­tle fairy prince. It was his bright­ness in­deed that gave me a respite. Would it be so great if he were re­ally go­ing to tell me? “Well,” he said at last, “just ex­actly in or­der that you should do this.”

“Do what?”

“Think me—for a change—bad!”