Alice went timidly up to the door and knocked.
"There’s no sort of use in knocking," said the Footman, "and that for two reasons. First, because I’m on the same side of the door as you are; secondly, because they’re making such a noise inside, no one could possibly hear you." And certainly there was a most extraordinary noise going on within—a constant howling and sneezing, and every now and then a great crash, as if a dish or kettle had been broken to pieces.
"How am I to get in?" asked Alice.
"Are you to get in at all?" said the Footman. "That’s the first question, you know."
"There’s no sort of use in knocking," said the Footman, "and that for two reasons. First, because I’m on the same side of the door as you are; secondly, because they’re making such a noise inside, no one could possibly hear you." And certainly there was a most extraordinary noise going on within—a constant howling and sneezing, and every now and then a great crash, as if a dish or kettle had been broken to pieces.
"How am I to get in?" asked Alice.
"Are you to get in at all?" said the Footman. "That’s the first question, you know."
