The man, who had never liked the words "booby" and "booby-hatch, and who liked them even less on a shining morning when there was a unicorn in the garden, thought for a moment "We' ll see about that he said. He walked over to the door. "He has a golden horn in the middle of his forehead,” he told her. Then he went back to the garden to watch the unicorn; but the unicorn had gone away. The man sat down among the roses and went to sleep.