“Yes, of course,” admitted the child. She sighed deeply. How was any one to get anywhere, with so many literal-minded people about? She remembered the man in the play who said, “If we are discovered, we are lost,” and the other who replied, “No, if we are discovered, we are found.” It was Mrs. Baron who returned to prosaic affairs. “I’m going out this afternoon,” she said briskly. “I’ve been tied up here in the house three Thursdays. There are people I simply must call on.” Bonnie May did not know why her heart should have jumped at this announcement. Still, there seemed to be no end to the possibilities for enjoyment in a big house when there wasn’t anybody to be saying continuously: “You must,” or “You mustn’t.” She wandered up-stairs as soon as luncheon was over, and in Baron’s room she was overcome by an irresistible impulse. She heard the houseman moving about in the next room, and the thought occurred to her that she had never seen the houseman’s room. She had never even spoken to the houseman. There was something quite mysterious about the fact that he always kept to himself. Mrs. Shepard had assured her on one occasion that Thomason never had a word to say to anybody--that he was a perverse and sullen creature. Now it occurred to her that possibly Mrs. Shepard’s estimate might lack fairness. Anyway, it would be interesting to find out for herself. It would be a kind of adventure. She tapped lightly on Thomason’s door. After an interval of silence, during which one might have thought that the room itself was amazed, there was the sound of heavy feet approaching. The door opened and Thomason stood on the threshold. Bonnie May had never been near enough to him really to see him before. Now she discovered that he had quaint creases about his mouth and eyes, and that his eyes were like violets. It was as if you had dropped some violets accidentally, and they had fallen in a strange place. There was a childish expression in Thomason’s eyes, and it occurred to Bonnie May that possibly he was afraid of people. It seemed to her quite shocking that the little man should remain by himself always, because he was afraid of mingling with people. Thomason’s eyes were very bright as he looked at her. Then he winked slowly, to facilitate thought. He was thinking: “She’s the one who does whatever she pleases.” Despite his habits of seclusion, Thomason was by no means oblivious to the life that went on in the mansion. “May I come in?” asked Bonnie May. She did not worry about the absence of a spontaneous welcome. “It’s an adventure,” she was thinking.