/ 2008-09-22 00:00:00

When the experiment is finished I shall crawl away, a
decrepit wreck. But, thank heaven, I can crawl to You, and you will
nurse me back to life. We'll talk everything over, for hours on end, and
I'll be able to abuse the Dragon to my heart's content. I know you'll
let me do that, provided I don't use naughty words, or, if any, disguise
them daintily in a whisper.
Ellaline and I have discussed plans and possibilities, and if all goes
as she expects (I don't see why it shouldn't), I ought to be freed from
the unpleasant role of understudy in five or six weeks. The instant my
chains are broken by a telegram from the bride saying, "Safely married,"
or words to that effect, I shall do "all my possible" to fold, my tent
like an Arab and silently steal--not to say sneak--away from the lair of
the Dragon, without his opening a scaly red eye to the dreadful reality,
until I'm beyond his power.
It must be either that or the most awful scene with him--a Regular Row.
He, saying what he thinks of my deception; me, defending myself and the
real Ellaline by saying what I think of his general beastliness. If it
came to that, I might in my rage wax unladylike; so perhaps, of the two
evils, the lesser would be the sneak act--_n'est ce pas_? Well, I shall
see when the time comes.
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