"Bit too fast for you, was it? Well, you shouldn't be so fat. You
eat too much. Now we're not going to sit with your father and
mother--there isn't room for you there. So don't you go calling out
to them or anything. We're sitting in the back and you'd better be
quiet or they'll turn you out."

"I'll be quiet," gasped Jeremy.

Uncle Samuel paused at a lighted hole in the wall and spoke to a
large lady in black silk who was drinking a cup of tea. Jeremy
caught the jingle of money. Then they moved forward, stumbling in
the dark up a number of stone steps, pushing at a heavy black
curtain, then suddenly bathed in a bewildering glow of light and
scent and colour.

Jeremy's first impression, as he fell into this new world, was of an
ugly, harsh, but funny voice crying out very loudly indeed: "Oh, my
great aunt! Oh, my great aunt! Oh, my great aunt!" A roar of
laughter rose about him, almost lifting him off his feet, and close
to his car a Glebeshire voice sobbed: "Eh, my dear. Poor worm! Poor
worm!"

He was aware then of a strong smell of oranges, of Uncle Samuel
pushing him forward, of stumbling over boots, knees, and large hands
that were clapping in his very nose, of falling into a seat and then
clinging to it as though it was his only hope in this strange
puzzling world. The high funny voice rose again: "Oh, my great aunt!
Oh, my great aunt!" And again it was followed by the rough roar of
delighted laughter.