And so the poor Ogre remains, planted there.

The Fairy Tales, I remark again, are very true in demonstrating that the Ogre loves the elf and not the Ogress.
But all the same they are deucedly unsympathetic towards the poor Ogre.
The only sympathetic one I know is Beauty and the Beast; and even that is a mere begging of the question, for the Beast was a handsome young nincompoop of a Prince all the time! Barbara says that this figurative, allusive adumbration of Jaffery's love affair is pure nonsense.

Anything less like an ogre than our overgrown baby of a friend it would he impossible to imagine.

But I hold to my theory; all the more because when Adrian and I returned from our stroll round the garden, we found Jaffery standing over her, legs apart, like a Colossus of Rhodes, and roaring at her like a sucking dove.

I noticed a scared, please-don't-eat-me look in her eyes.