Wait till we get to Chalet, and then we'll see." "I like _your_ 'we'll see,'" said Molly.

"Some people's 'we'll see,' just means, 'I can't be troubled,' or, 'don't bother.' But I think _your_ 'we'll see' sounds nice, grandmother dear." "I am glad you think so, grand-daughter dear; and now, what about going to bed?
It is only seven, but if you are tired ?" "But we are not a bit tired," said Molly.
"We never go to bed till half-past eight, and Ralph at nine," said Sylvia.
The word "bed" had started a new flow of ideas in Molly's brain.
"Grandmother," she said, growing all at once very grave, "that reminds me of one thing I wanted to ask you; do the tops of the beds ever come down now in Paris ?" "'Do the tops of the beds in Paris ever come down ?'" repeated grandmother.

"My dear child, what _do_ you mean ?" "It was a story she heard," began Sylvia, in explanation.
"About somebody being suffocated in Paris by the top of the bed coming down," continued Ralph.
"It was robbers that wanted to steal his money," added Molly.
Grandmother began to look less mystified.

"Oh, _that_ old story!" she said.

"But how did you hear it?
I remember it when I was a little girl; it really happened to a friend of my grandfather's, and afterwards I came across it in a little book about dogs.