Now, for the cage, my pretty canary-bird. But that other world, in spite of her resolute exclusion of it, was always looking round corners and peeping through chinks and crannies, and rustling and raiding into the order in which she chose to live, shining out of pictures at her, echoing in lyrics and music; it invaded her dreams, it wrote up broken and enigmatical sentences upon the passage walls of her mind. Her mind went on generalizing. All these wonderful comrades, henceforth and for ever hers. "What has caused this quarrel, Thames?" asked the little girl, anxiously. “You promised faithfully to be there,” he said slowly.
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