It's like an invention: sometimes it lies deep down inside you, great and quiet--and at other times it racks you and keeps you from sleeping." "Oho!" cried Emmy.

"So you know all about it.

You _are_ in love.

Now, tell me, who is she ?" "It was many years ago," said Septimus.

"She wore pigtails and I burned a hole in her pinafore with a toy cannon and she slapped my face.