place--"

He went slowly upstairs to the nursery, the happiest boy in the
kingdom. But through all his happiness there was this puzzle: Uncle
Samuel had told a lie, and no one had thought that it mattered.
There were good lies and bad ones then. Or was it that grown-up
people could tell lies and children mustn't? . . .

He tumbled into the warm, lighted nursery half asleep. There was
Hamlet watching in front of the Jampot's sewing machine.

He would have things to think about for years and years and
years. . .

There was the Jampot.

"I'm sorry I called you a beastly woman," he said.

She sniffed.

"Well, I hope you'll be a good boy now," she said.

"Oh, I'll be good," he smiled. "But, Nurse, are there some people
can tell lies and others mustn't?"

"All them that tell lies goes to Hell," said the Jampot. "And now,
Master Jeremy, come along and take your things off. It's past
eleven, and what you'll be like to-morrow--"