He leant his face against Marcelline's soft white apron and tried to fancy it the fairy lady's fairy robe; but it was no use.

He had to sit up and look about him.
"Well," said Marcelline, "and didn't you like the story ?" Hugh looked at Jeanne.

It couldn't be a dream then--there _had_ been a story, for if he had been asleep, of course he couldn't have heard it.
He said nothing, however--he waited to see what Jeanne would say.

Jeanne tossed back her head impatiently.
"Of course I liked it," she said.

"It's a beautiful story.