"It's like holding one's face over an oven." "Oh, it is," said the princess, with impatient weariness.
"Yet there's quite a decent little breeze blowing over the top of the walls," said the Terror.
The princess sighed, and they gazed at each other with curious examining eyes.

Certainly he looked a nice boy.
"I tell you what: come out into the wood.

I know an awfully cool place.

You'd find it very refreshing," said the Terror in the tone of one who has of a sudden been happily inspired.
The princess looked back along the wall of pear tree irresolutely at the sleeping baroness.

The sight of that richly crimson face made the garden feel hotter than ever.
"Do come.