h him as with an equal, forbearing from facetiousness.

Damp though it was, Edwin twisted himself round and sat on the wall next
to the crocks, and bent over the boy beneath, who gazed with upturned
face.

"Why didn't you ask Auntie Janet to bring you?"

"I don't generally ask for things that I really want," said the boy,
with a peculiar glance.

"I see," said Edwin, with an air of comprehension. He did not, however,
comprehend. He only felt that the boy was wonderful. Imagine the boy
saying that! He bent lower. "Come on up," he said. "I'll give you a
hand. Stick your feet into that nick there."

------------------------------------------------------------------------

TWO.

In an instant George was standing on the wall, light as fluff. Edwin
held him by the legs, and his hand was on Edwin's cap. The feel of the
boy was delightful; he was so lithe and so yielding, and yet firm; and
his glance was so trustful and admiring. "Rough!" thought Edwin,
remembering Maggie's adjective. "He isn't a bit rough! Unruly? Well,
I dare say he can be unruly if he cares to be. It all depends how you
handle him." Thus Edwin reflected in the pride of conquest, holding
close to the boy, and savouring intimately his charm. Even the boy's
slightness attracted him. Difficult to believe that he was nine years
old! His body was indeed backward. So too, it appeared, was his
education. And yet was there not the wisdom of centuries in, "I don't
generally ask for things that I really want?"

Suddenly the boy wriggled, and gave a sound of joy that was almost a
yell. "Look!" he cried.

The covered top of the steam-car could just be seen gliding along above
the high wall that separated Edwin's garden from the street.

"Yes," Edwin agreed. "Funny, isn't it?" But he considered that such
glee at such a trifle was really more characteristic of six or seven
than of nine years. George's face was transformed by ecstasy.

"It's when things move like that--horizontal!" George explained,
pronouncing the word carefully.

Edwin felt that there was no end to the surpassing strangeness of this
boy. One moment he was aged six, and the next he was talking about
horizontality.

"Why? What do you mean?"

"I don't know!" George sighed. "But somehow--" Then, with fresh
vivacity: "I tell you--when Auntie Janet comes to wake me up in the
morning the cat comes in too, with its tail up in the air--you know!"
Edwin nodded. "Well,