"Yes; then tell me, Betty, do you ever get asked what time you go to
bed?"

"They ALL ask me that," said Betty promptly.

"I think I should like to ask you too," I said, "just to be in the
movement. When is it?"

"Half-past six." She looked at the clock. "So we've got half an
hour. I'll get my ball."

Before I had time to do anything about it, the ball came bouncing
in, hit me on the side of the head, and hurried off to hide itself
under an old lady dozing in the corner. Betty followed more
sedately.

"Where's my ball?" she asked.

"Has it come in?" I said in surprise. "Then it must have gone out
again. It noticed you weren't here."

"I believe you've got it."

"I swear I haven't, Betty. I think the lady in the corner knows
something about it."

Betty rushed across to her and began to crawl under her chair. I
nervously rehearsed a few sentences to myself.

"It is not my child, madam. I found it here. Surely you can see that