"Oh, but DON'T we know one another, though!" she
cried.
"Such things we have to keep secret--things that go on right
before YOUR eyes!"
"Why don't some of you tell us?" he asked.
"We can't tell you."
"Too much honour?"
"No. Not even too much honour among thieves, Mr. Russell. We
don't tell you about our tricks against one another because we
know it wouldn't make any impression on you. The tricks aren't
played against you, and you have a soft side for cats with lovely
manners!"
"What about your tricks against us?"
"Oh, those!" Alice laughed. "We think they're rather cute!"
"Bravo!" he cried, and hammered the ferrule of his stick upon the
pavement.
"What's the applause for?"
"For you. What you said was like running up the black flag to
the masthead."
"Oh, no. It was just a modest little sign in a pretty
flower-bed: 'Gentlemen, beware!'"
"I see I must," he said, gallantly.
"Thanks! But I mean, beware of the whole bloomin' garden!" Then,
picking up a thread that had almost disappeared: "You needn't
think you'll ever find out whether I'm right about Mildred's not
being an exception by asking her," she said. "She won't tell
you: she's not the sort that ever makes a confession."
But Russell had not followed her shift to the former topic.
Pages:
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133