Perhaps it would be
easier to talk first and then go for the clock. If you have it you'll be
watching it. Will you come into the garden with me now?"
"Yes, Herr." Gretchen would have gone anywhere with this strange man. He
inspired confidence.
The garden was a snug little place; a few peach-trees and arbor-vines
and vegetables, and tables and chairs on the brick walk.
"So you are going to become a prima donna?" he began, seating himself
opposite her.
"I am going to try," she smiled. "What is it you wish to say to me?"
"I am wondering how to begin," looking at the blue sky.
"Is it difficult?"
"Yes, very."
"Then why bother?"
"Some things are written before we are born. And I must, in the order of
things, read this writing to you."
"Begin," said Gretchen.
"Have you any dreams?"
"Yes," vaguely.
"I mean the kind one has in the daytime, the dreams when the eyes are
wide open."
"Oh, yes!"
"Who has not dreamed of riding in carriages, of dressing in silks, of
wearing rich ornaments?"
"Ah!" Gretchen clasped her hands and leaned on her elbows. "And there
are palaces, too."
"To be sure." There was a long pause. "How would you like a dream of
this kind to come true?"
"Do they ever come true?"
"In this particular case, I am a fairy.
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