Suddenly, in the midst of the discussion, the
Phoenix spread its wings and fluttered to the floor, and from there
it spoke.
'I gather,' it said, 'from the carpet, that it wants you to let it
go to its old home, where it was born and brought up, and it will
return within the hour laden with a number of the most beautiful
and delightful products of its native land.'
'What IS its native land?'
'I didn't gather. But since you can't agree, and time is passing,
and the tea-things are not washed down--I mean washed up--'
'I votes we do,' said Robert. 'It'll stop all this jaw, anyway.
And it's not bad to have surprises. Perhaps it's a Turkey carpet,
and it might bring us Turkish delight.'
'Or a Turkish patrol,' said Robert.
'Or a Turkish bath,' said Anthea.
'Or a Turkish towel,' said Jane.
'Nonsense,' Robert urged, 'it said beautiful and delightful, and
towels and baths aren't THAT, however good they may be for you.
Let it go. I suppose it won't give us the slip,' he added, pushing
back his chair and standing up.
'Hush!' said the Phoenix; 'how can you? Don't trample on its
feelings just because it's only a carpet.'
'But how can it do it--unless one of us is on it to do the
wishing?' asked Robert. He spoke with a rising hope that it MIGHT
be necessary for one to go and why not Robert? But the Phoenix
quickly threw cold water on his new-born dream.
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