haste that Bulka had to drag him away, declaring that some must be left for the rest of the guests!
In a pause in the music Poor Cecco stood by Jensina, gazing on the happy throng.
“Isn’t it nice?” he said. “Oh, Jensina, how well everything has turned out! Look at Tubby! Look at Bulka, all over cake crumbs! Really, it almost makes one feel—”
“Yes?” murmured Jensina, gazing shyly up at him. She was thinking of what the policeman rat had said.
“—makes one feel like standing on one’s head!” finished Poor Cecco somewhat hastily, for he had caught the look in Jensina’s eye.
Jensina’s natural common sense returned to her.
“You needn’t think I’m in a hurry to get married, either,” she retorted instantly, “because I’m not. I much prefer a life of adventure and combat!”
“And from what I know of you,” Poor Cecco gallantly returned, “you’re likely to get plenty of it! And now I must go and dance with Tubby!”
And with this he slipped away, just as the music struck up once more.
“Hey Presto!” said Harlequin.
