're a strange kid," he said; "you take everything so quietly--but,
thank God, I don't understand children."

"There's Hamlet," said Jeremy, wondering whether perhaps the dream would
extend to his friend. "I suppose he can't come too."

"No, he certainly can't," said Uncle Samuel grimly.

"And there's Rose. She'll wonder where I've gone."

"I've told her. Don't you worry. What a conscientious infant you are.
Just like your father. Anything else?"

"No," said Jeremy breathlessly, and nearly murdered himself going
downstairs because he shut his eyes in order to continue the dream
so long as it was possible. Then in the cold night air, grasping his
uncle's hand with a feverish hold, he stammered:

"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.

"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