“Arabia’s far better than an island,” Grif went on. “You can’t go out to take a walk there without something happening――some queer kind of thing. And there are deserts that nobody has ever crossed since the beginning of the world, except Solomon. That’s where the demons and the efrits live. After riding on a camel through the desert for days and days you come to a bronze statue of a knight on horseback. Then you get down and push him round on his pedestal and he points with his lance to show you what way you’re to go. And you come at last to a city where everything is silent and asleep, and you walk through the streets, but you see no one, and you go into a palace and across marble courts with fountains playing, but still there is no one. At last you reach a door that is just a little open, and through the door you hear the sound of a boy reading out of the _Koran_. He is kept there a prisoner by a female efrit, and you help him to escape, because that is your destiny and nobody else could do it. Both of you get on an ebony horse, and it flies up into the air, and very soon you see a black cloud, like a thunder cloud, coming after you. But the boy knows that this is really the female efrit, and she comes frightfully fast, and just when she is over your head she lets a big stone drop on the horse and breaks it, and you are falling down into the sea when a roc catches you and brings you to its nest. When the roc flies away next morning you climb down a cliff and find a door leading underground, and you come to beautiful gardens where the plants talk, and there are big dogs like Pouncer, only far bigger, with eyes like mill-wheels.... Where _is_ Pouncer? Did Edward and Palmer take him?” “No.... There they go!” This last remark was called forth by the resplendent apparition of Aunt Caroline and Barbara, who had come out of the house and were walking down the drive. “She told me she _loved_ paying visits,” Ann said, despondently, as she gazed after her sister. “How can anybody love sitting on a chair and not talking except when they’re asked a question?” Grif stretched himself on his back, with all his limbs outspread. “I expect she likes the cakes and things.” “She says it isn’t for that. And when I asked her what it _was_ for, she said I was too young to understand. I think she’s awful when she gets into a grown-up mood.” “Girls are always like that――at least, they get that way sooner or later.” “I won’t ever. I hate wearing my best dress, and I hate wearing gloves, and I hate sitting in drawing-rooms.” “You’ll get to like it some day. That’s the difference between girls and boys. All girls go the same way. It’s a kind of disease. Edward’s nearly as bad, though he isn’t a girl. I mean, he likes dressing himself up and putting grease on his hair and going out to parties where there’s dancing.” “I _hate_ dancing,” said Ann. “So does Balmer. I _love_ Balmer. He’s the nicest boy I ever saw.” After a minute she added, “You’re nice too.”