But Marjolaine had had an idea. "I know! There 's Maman's claret. She
takes it for her health. What do you say to _that_?"
Jack had not tried it, and did n't know what he might be likely to say
to it. He could only stammer, "Oh, it's better than--better than--" he
was going to add elderberry, or cowslip, but caught himself up in
time--"better than ale."
"Ah!--Now, will you wait a moment under the tree?"
"I'll wait hours, anywhere!"
Marjolaine caught sight of a figure moving about in Number Three. She
came on tip-toe to Jack. You see, by this time there was quite a
conspiracy between them.
"No! Better!" she whispered. "Go into the Gazebo."