Still, he liked them on the whole, and he told her about the beginning of fairies.
"You see, Wendy, when the first baby laughed for the first time, its laugh broke into a thousand pieces, and they all went skipping about, and that was the beginning of fairies." Tedious talk this, but being a stay-at-home she liked it.
"And so," he went on good-naturedly, "there ought to be one fairy for every boy and girl." "Ought to be?
Isn't there ?" "No.

You see children know such a lot now, they soon don't believe in fairies, and every time a child says, 'I don't believe in fairies,' there is a fairy somewhere that falls down dead." Really, he thought they had now talked enough about fairies, and it struck him that Tinker Bell was keeping very quiet.

"I can't think where she has gone to," he said, rising, and he called Tink by name.

Wendy's heart went flutter with a sudden thrill.
"Peter," she cried, clutching him, "you don't mean to tell me that there is a fairy in this room!" "She was here just now," he said a little impatiently.

"You don't hear her, do you ?" and they both listened.
"The only sound I hear," said Wendy, "is like a tinkle of bells." "Well, that's Tink, that's the fairy language.