The children looked at each other — then at him — then at each other again — wonderingly, perplexedly; then one said —

“Didst hear him, Margery? — he said he is the King. Can that be true?”

“How can it be else but true, Prissy? Would he say a lie? For look you, Prissy, an’ it were not true, it would be a lie. It surely would be. Now think on’t. For all things that be not true, be lies — thou canst make nought else out of it.”

It was a good tight argument, without a leak in it anywhere; and it left Prissy’s half-doubts not a leg to stand on.

She considered a moment, then put the King upon his honour with the simple remark —