I must not speak to her nor touch her--not even touch her busy hand
with my lips, or I should "blur the dream."
I got up and looked over the boy Gogo's shoulder. He was translating
Gray's Elegy into French; he had not got very far, and seemed to be
stumped by the line--
"And leaves the world to darkness and to me."
Mimsey was silently looking over his other shoulder, her thumb in her
mouth, one arm on the back of his chair. She seemed to be stumped
also; it was an awkward line to translate.
I stooped and put my hand to Medor's nose, and felt his warm breath.
He wagged his rudiment of a tail, and whimpered in his sleep. Mimsey
said:--
"Regarde Medor, comme il remue la queue! _C'est le Prince Charmant qui
lui chatouille le bout du nez._"