I didn’t get to take part—Mama banished me to my room—but I watched it from my window. Most people stayed. Maybe they hoped I’d push someone else out the window. But they spent the whole time gossiping about what I’d done to the great Sir Titus Dane. Unfortunately, Sir Titus had survived the fall unscathed. Sometimes the low Martian gravity is a real curse. It was great that I could jump almost five feet high, but it also meant that Sir Titus hadn’t been knocked silly like he deserved. I’d tried to explain what had happened, and Olivia and Putty had backed me up, but Mama wouldn’t listen. “No more!” she commanded. “It’s bad enough that you shame our family in front of Lady Ashville”—she looked ready to faint—“but to continue to lie…” To make matters worse, when I led Mama and Papa up to Freddie’s room, the sword had disappeared. “You can still see the hole in the ceiling,” Putty said, but that only made Mama have another fit of hysterics. Finally, the carriages began to pull away, carrying the partygoers home.
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