all this so well in her mind, she believed, since she had seen Nutcracker and his vassals in life and motion, that they actually did live and move. But that was not so; every thing in the glass case remained stiff and lifeless; yet Maria, far from giving up her conviction, cast all the blame upon the magic of Lady Mouserings and her seven-headed son. "But, if you are not able to move, or to talk to me, dear Master Drosselmeier," she said aloud to the Nutcracker, "yet I know well enough that you understand me, and know what a good friend I am to you. You may depend upon my help, and I will beg of your uncle to bring his skill to your assistance, whenever you have need of it." Nutcracker remained still and motionless, but it seemed to Maria as if a gentle sigh was breathed in the glass case, so that the panes trembled, scarce audibly indeed, but with a strange, sweet tone; and a voice rang out, like a little bell: "Maria mine—I'll be thine—and thou mine—Maria
