As if we should ever forget it! But we won't think about it just now--because we've got to think of something else that's much more to the present purpose." "Yes," he said soothingly.

"Yes, Bubbles ?" Poor Bill felt very uncomfortable.

He did not wish prim Miss Pegler to come in and find him sitting on Bubbles' bed, when no one was yet up in the house.

These modern, unconventional ways were all very well, and he knew they often did not really mean anything, but still--but still ...
"Did you ever hear of the King's Serf ?" asked Bubbles suddenly.
"The King's Serf ?" he repeated, bewildered.
"When the rope which was hanging some poor devil of a highwayman broke--when the axe was too blunt to cut a robber rascal's head off--when a man being condemned to death survived by some extraordinary accident--well, such a man became thereafter the King's Serf.

He belonged to the King, body, soul, and spirit, and no one but the King could touch him.