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And Gwendolyn took a more firm hold of the lip-case. After a moment the little old gentleman began to speak very low: "We shan't be able to steal away. She's watching us out of the back of her head!" "Yes. I can see 'em shine!" "I believe that when she rolled her eyes from one face to the other it made that rumbley sound." "Scares me," whispered Gwendolyn. "Ump!" he grunted.
Oh, I know it was unintentional! You were so little. But I can't spare any more." Down into the patch-pocket went her hand. Out came the lip-case. She thrust it into his furry grasp. "Keep this," she bade, "till I come back. I'll go for the Doctor." The Man-Who-Makes-Faces leaned down. "Fly!" he urged. At that, Jane began to circle once more. "Lovie," she hummed, "don't you go!
The nurse stooped, picked up a small stone, and sent it spinning from the end of a thumb. Faint with fear, Gwendolyn thrust a trembling hand into the patch-pocket and took hold of the lip-case. Then leaning against the little old gentleman, her yellow head half-concealed by the dusty flap of his torn coat, she waited.
Next, something was slipped into her grasp. It was the lip-case! "Well, Mr. Piper," she cried out, "what do They say?" They were close by, standing side by side, gazing at nothing. For their eyes were wide open, their faces expression-less. Gwendolyn's father addressed them. "I never asked my wife to drop that sort of thing," he said gravely, " for Gwendolyn's sake. You might, I suppose."
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