Thousand: Four Hundred Ninety-Six

would touch her tongue to his. “Never,” she said, coldly, then reflected. “Touching tongues. Does that break an enchantment? I mean, suppose you were really a handsome prince who’d accidentally offended some thin-skinned fairy and she turned you into a toad. (‘Frog,’ said the frog.) Would you turn back into a handsome prince after the tongue thing?” “Let’s find out,” said the frog. “That might be worth doing something disgusting, I guess,” the girl said, nodding soberly. She patted the grass at her side. “Climb out here next to me. I’m not going to lean over that slimy old water.