"So do I. We seem to like a lot of the same things. Maybe that's why I can talk to you. Usually with other people I feel strange and as though there were a wall between us, or as though we were speaking a different language, even when we're really not. I can speak four languages yet I can't talk at all to most people. But you're different. I can talk to you so easily, and this is only the third time we've seen each other." "I know," Flip said, looking at the mice again instead of at Paul, at the tiny pink babies and at the little grey mother with her bright, frightened eyes. "I can talk to you, too, and I can't talk to anybody at school." Paul turned away from the mice. "We're disturbing her. She's afraid we might take her babies. Come on. We'd better go downstairs. I don't want you to get into trouble at your school. They'd be very unpleasant if they knew you'd been here." "You seem to know a lot about girls' schools," Flip said. Paul started to lead the way back through the maze of corridors. "Institutions in general are similar," he said loftily. Then, "you really will come on Saturday, Flip?" "Come hell or high water," Flip promised, feeling very bold. Paul held out his hand to say good-bye and Flip took it. She felt that Paul did not realize that he was shaking hands with the most unpopular girl in the school. 9 She was so excited by the afternoon's happiness that she ran almost all the way back to school. At the clearing of the woods she stopped because she knew that if she went into the Common Room, still panting, her cheeks flushed, someone would notice and try to find out where she had been. She wanted nothing more than to tell someone about Paul; she had always wanted to share her happiness with the world; but she knew that if she was to see him again she had to keep him a secret. And he wants to see me again! she thought exultantly.--He's not frightening the way I always thought being alone with a boy would be. It was just like talking to anyone, only nicer, and he wants to see me again! She had seen a tapestry once, in the Metropolitan Museum in New York, of a young page standing with a unicorn. The page was tall and slender with huge dark eyes and thick dark hair, and Paul reminded her of him. He had the same unselfconscious grace and when his hand rested on Ariel's collar it was with the same self-assured nobility that the hand of the page rested on the unicorn's neck. She was pleased and excited that she had thought of the resemblance.--And I can imagine that Ariel's magic like the unicorn, she thought.--After all it was he who brought me to Paul. 10