“We believe in an aristocracy,” I said. Moxie wanted to type so badly that she rattled her fingers on the table. “Doesn’t that mean people who are rich and powerful?” “Not that kind of aristocracy,” I said, with both feet on the floor. “Not an aristocracy of power, based on rank or wealth, but an aristocracy of the sensitive, the considerate, and the plucky. Our members are found in all nations and classes, and all through the ages, and there is a secret understanding between us when we meet.” “Like us,” Cleo said. “We’ve all read The Wind in the Willows, so we decided to use that as a code.
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