“It was poisoned, Peter,” she told him softly; “and now I am going to be dead.” “O Tink, did you drink it to save me?” “Yes.” “But why, Tink?” Her wings would scarcely carry her now, but in reply she alighted on his shoulder and gave his nose a loving bite. She whispered in his ear “You silly ass,” and then, tottering to her chamber, lay down on the bed.
