"You wouldn't make much of an Ogress," he said dispassionately. "You haven't the build for it. But I'm not an Ogre even yet. It's not _my_ fault. I meant to begin with those pages of yours--but you all seemed to have some ridiculous objections. Then I've sent Tuetzi out to forage and pick up a small child or two, but the peasants round here are so selfish and unneighbourly that they never give him the chance--actually shutting all the children up indoors!" "What else can you _expect_?" she demanded indignantly. "Surely your--your better self must see that even to _attempt_ to devour poor helpless children is--is too perfectly disgusting for words!" "It's disgusting when one doesn't succeed," he admitted; "I see nothing in it to object to myself. Of course the average man may, but you've taught me what to think of _his_ opinions." "You entirely misunderstand me," said Edna. "But I've no wish to discuss such subjects with you now--I insist on your allowing me to go home at once." "Before I do that," he said, "you must write a letter on my behalf to your parents." "I don't mind asking them to overlook the way you have treated me, and assuring them that you regret it and will behave yourself properly for the future," conceded Edna, "if you mean _that_." "I _don't_ mean that," he said; "I don't _want_ to behave properly--what _they_ would call properly. I want to lead a fuller life than I can while I'm cooped up in my own Castle. You see, it's no good having the Will to Power if you're not allowed any opportunities of exercising it. And I'm not, with guards stationed all round my walk to see that I don't get out. I might set Tuetzi at them, it's true, but he is the only dragon I've got, and it would be very annoying if they hurt the poor thing. So you must get the King to send me free permission to go wherever I choose and do whatever I like. Then I can make a start as an Ogre. At present I'm hampered at every turn!" "Father and Mother," said Edna, "wouldn't hear of setting you free for such wickedness as that. It would be contrary to all their principles." "What I think you called 'Slave-morality,' eh?" he said. "But you needn't tell them _why_ I want to get out. Besides, I've _other_ reasons. My carriage horses want airing, and I should like to drop in to lunch at the Palace now and then, as I used to. Not as your betrothed, you know--that's all over--but just as a friend of the family. I always enjoyed my meals at the Palace." "Oh!" gasped Edna, "I'm sure, quite sure, they would never consent to receive you again. How _could_ they?" "They would," he said, "if you told them what would be the consequences if they didn't." "And--and--what _will_ the consequences be?" inquired Edna. "Well," he replied darkly, "poor Tuetzi will never reach his full growth on his present diet. I fancy he would rather relish a change." "You _couldn't_ see me--me you were once engaged to--devoured by your horrible dragon!" she cried.