He eats like a shark! It would hardly do for me to mention it."
His wife caught the idea, and at once began giving hints of the most
subtle and delicate kind. "Just see what a short way it is back to
Fairyland! Why, if you started to-morrow morning, you'd get there in
very little more than a week!"
The Baron looked incredulous. "It took me a full month to come," he said.
"But it's ever so much shorter, going back, you know!'
The Baron looked appealingly to the Vice-warden, who chimed in readily.
"You can go back five times, in the time it took you to come here
once--if you start to-morrow morning!"
All this time the Sonata was pealing through the room. The Baron could
not help admitting to himself that it was being magnificently played:
but he tried in vain to get a glimpse of the youthful performer.
Every time he had nearly succeeded in catching sight of him, either the
Vice-Warden or his wife was sure to get in the way, pointing out some
new place on the map, and deafening him with some new name.
He gave in at last, wished a hasty good-night, and left the room,
while his host and hostess interchanged looks of triumph.
"Deftly done!" cried the Vice-Warden. "Craftily contrived!
But what means all that tramping on the stairs?" He half-opened the door,
looked out, and added in a tone of dismay, "The Baron's boxes are being
carried down!"
"And what means all that rumbling of wheels?" cried my Lady.
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