somebody's back, and the ubiquitous "spitball" was being volleyed back and forth. And Lonely, knowing that his long-imprisoned knights and retainers would soon be flocking about him, was dreamily content with life and his box-kite, sleepily watching the fleck of white as it floated up in the blue ether, hazily wondering if his flying-machine would ever soar to such heights with him, and even more hazily speculating as to whether or not one could ever slip into heaven, with just the right sort of air-ship, especially if one made a sufficiently wide circle about two ominous black oak chairs (with fleecy clouds drifting slowly in and out between their legs) whereon sat the two figures, writing with goose-quill pens.
Annie Eliza appeared on the edge of the Common, saw the kite, and approached Lonely purringly, toeing-in as she came. Two days before, at a tea-party of cut-up green cucumbers and carrots, she had confessed to Lonely her intention to become a Trapeze Lady, but had expressed her willingness to give over her career, and follow Lonely singly and faithfully, for the trifling gift of Shivers and what remained of his bottle of perfume.
