,” commented Mogget. “More of a bear’s name, t grooucone?”

    “!” ted. “t’s a fool’s name! how dare—”

    “Is it unfitting?” interrupted Mogget, coolly.

    “You do remember w you’ve done?”

    t t kno since t trying to remember his name.

    to bear it.

    “Yes, I remember,” oucone. But I shall call you—”

    ried again.

    “You can’t say it,” Mogget said. “A spell tied to tion of—but I can’t say it, nor tell anyone ture of it, or o fix it. You  be able to talk about it eits. Certainly, it ed me.”

    “I see,” replied toucone, somberly.  try tell me, whe Kingdom?”

    “No one,” said Mogget.

    “A regency, t is perhaps—”

    “No. No regency. No one reigns. No one rules.

    t first, but it declined . . .

    h help.”

    “ do you mean, ‘at first’?” asked toucone. “ exactly has happened? here have I been?”

    “ted for one y years,” Mogget announced callously.

    “Anarc ty, tempered by s could do. And you, my boy,  of t two hundred years.”

    “the family?”

    “All dead and past te, save one, who should be. You know who I mean.”

    For a moment, to return toucone to ate.  frozen, only t movement of  sinued life. tears started in o meet urned hands.

    Mogget c sympatill ts ween sobs became calmer.

    “t crying over it,” t said y of people rying to put tter to rigury alone, trying to deal ones and t Abainly isn’t lying around crying . Make yourself useful and help her.”

    “Can I?” asked toucone blea