crossed him out at once. He became illegible. For the trio had their
likes and dislikes; they resented liberties being taken with them.
Also, when there was no one to tell them stories, they were quite able
to amuse themselves. It was the inactive yet omnipotent Maria who
brought about indirectly the obliteration of Mr. Jinks.

And it came about as follows:

Maria was a podgy child of marked individuality. It was said that she
was seven years old, but _she_ declared that eight was the figure,
because some uncle or other had explained, "you're in your eighth
year." Wandering uncles are troublesome in this kind of way. Every
time her age was mentioned she corrected the informant. She had a
trick of moving her eyes without moving her head, as though the round
face was difficult to turn; but her big blue eyes slipped round
without the least trouble, as though oiled. The performance gave her
the sly and knowing aspect of a goblin, but she had no objection to
that, for it saved her trouble, and to save herself trouble--according
to nurses, Authorities, and the like--was her sole object in
existence.

Yet this seemed a mistaken view of the child. It was not so much that
she did not move unnecessarily as that it was not necessary for her to
move at all, since she invariably found herself in the middle of
whatever was going on. While life bustled anxiously about her,
hurrying to accomplish various ends, she remained calm and contented
at the centre, completely satisfied, mistress of it all. And her face
was symbolic of her entire being; whereas so many faces seem
unfinished, hers was complete--globular like the heavenly bodies,
circular like the sun, arms and legs unnecessary. The best of