"Yes. He made a verse about the soul--I mean this one--
"'And when my time shall come to die
I care not where my flesh may lie
Because I know my soul shall fly
Back to the stars!'"
"Ah, yes, the stars!" said I, lifting my gaze to the spangled
firmament above us. "This is a great thought--who knows?"
And presently as we went on together, hand in hand, came night very
still and silent and full of a splendour of stars that made a soft
twilight about us, very wonderful to behold.
"Now, why do that?" I demanded suddenly, for she had slipped her hand
from mine.
"Because!" she retorted.
"Because of what?"
"Just because!"
"Does it impede you to hold my hand?"
"Of course not."
"My hand is neither unpleasantly clammy nor particularly dirty, is
it?"
"No, Peregrine."
"Then why not hold it?"
"Because!"
"Upon my word!" I exclaimed, "you are very provoking!"
"Am I, Peregrine?"
"Extremely so! Why won't you hold my hand? And pray answer
intelligibly."
"Because I don't want to!"
"Oh, very well!" said I, greatly huffed. "Then you shall decline the
verb 'To be' instead."
"I do, Peregrine."
"Do what?"
"Decline any more of your verbs."
"Ha, then you don't wish to learn--?"
"I do, Peregrine, I do! But I'm sure I shall learn quicker if you'll
let me try to talk like you; I've learned a bit already only you never
notice--"
"Oh, yes, I do--God in heaven!" I gasped, my heart leaping in sudden
sickening dread.
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