"Is it really true? Are we going--really?"

"Of course we're going. Come on--step out or you'll miss the Giant."

"But--but--oh!" he drew a deep breath. "Then they don't think me a
liar any more?”

"They--who?"

"Father and Mother and everyone."

"Don't you think about them. You'd better enjoy yourself."

"But you said you wouldn't go to the Pantomime--not for anything?"

"Well, I've changed my mind. Don't talk so much. You know I hate you
children chattering. Always got something to say."

So Jeremy was silent. They raced down Orange Street, Jeremy being
almost carried off his feet. This was exactly like a dream. This
rushing movement and the way that the lamp-posts ran up to you as
though they were going to knock you down, and the way that the stars
crackled and sputtered and trembled overhead. But Uncle Samuel's
hand was flesh and blood, and the heel of Jeremy's right shoe hurt
him and he felt the tickle of his sailor-collar at the back of his
neck, just as he did when he was awake.

Then there they were at the Assembly Rooms door, Jeremy having
become so breathless that Uncle Samuel had to hold him up for a
moment or he'd have fallen.