'If it's not too much to ask, may I have my tea? I'm not feeling at all well.'

'Poor old Casie, that was hard luck!' said Edward.

'I'm not going to stop him,' said Mary, 'firstly because it's too late, and secondly because it's a special occasion with Barbara coming home.' It paid to argue rationally with the twins.

Barbara Gray had been away since Christmas at a finishing school in Switzerland. She had spent the Easter holidays skiing with her parents who were enthusiastic travellers.

'It's well for some people,' said Casie, a social comment of vague but weighty import which she often uttered.

'Casie, may we have these chicken's legs?' said Henrietta. 'How I'm to keep the kitchen clean with those children messing in the rubbish bins like starving cats '

'Don't pull it all out, Henrietta, please,' said Mary. A mess of screwed up paper, coffee beans, old lettuce leaves and human hair emerged with the chicken's legs.

'Nobody minds me,' said Casie. 'I'm wasting my life here.' 'Every life is wasted,' said Theodore. 'You people don't regard me as your equal ' 'You aren't our equal,' said Theodore. 'May I have my tea please?' 'Oh do shut up, Theo,' said Mary. 'Don't set Casie off. Your tea's there on the tray.' 'Lemon sponge. Mmm. Good.' 'I thought you weren't feeling well,' said Casie. 'A mere bilious craving. Where's Mingo?' Mingo, a large grey unclipped somewhat poodle-like dog, was always in attendance upon Theodore's breakfast and tea, which were taken in bed. Kate and Octavian were ribald in speculation concerning the relations between Theodore and Mingo. 'We'll bring him, Uncle Theo!' cried Edward. A brief scuffle produced Mingo from behind the florid castiron stove which, although it was expensive to run and useless for cooking, still filled the huge recess of the kitchen fireplace.