The children ran in and out between them like playing
puppies, tumbling against each in turn.
'They don't know which is which,' observed Jinny, watching the
introduction. Her voice ran past him like the whir of a shooting star
through space--far, far away. 'Excuse me!' she cried, as she cannoned
off Monkey against Cousinenry. 'I'm not a terminus! This is a regular
shipwreck!'
The three elder ones drew aside a little from the confusion.
'The Countess,' resumed Daddy, as soon as they were safe from
immediate destruction, 'has come all the way from Austria to see us.
She is staying with us for a few days. Isn't it delightful? We call
her the little Grafin.' His voice wumbled a trifle thickly in his
beard. 'She was good enough to like the story--our story, you know--
and wrote to me---'
'My story,' said a silvery, laughing voice.
And Rogers bowed politely, and with a moment's dizziness, at two
bright smiling eyes that watched him out of the little shadow standing
between him and the children. He was aware of grandeur.
He stood there, first startled, then dazed. She was so small. But
something about her was so enormous. His inner universe turned over
and showed its under side. The hidden thing that so long had brushed
his daily life came up utterly close and took him in its gigantic
arms.
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