Wendy’s Story
“Listen, then,” said Wendy, settling down to her story, with Michael at her feet and seven boys in the bed. “There was once a gentleman—”
“I had rather he had been a lady,” Curly said.
“I wish he had been a white rat,” said Nibs.
“Quiet,” their mother admonished them. “There was a lady also, and—”
“O mummy,” cried the first twin, “you mean that there is a lady also, don’t you? She is not dead, is she?”
“Oh no.”
“I am awfully glad she isn’t dead,” said Tootles. “Are you glad, John?”
“Of course I am.”
“Are you glad, Nibs?”
“Rather.”
“Are you glad, Twins?”
“We are just glad.”
“Oh dear,” sighed Wendy.
“Little less noise there,” Peter called out, determined that she should have fair play, however beastly a story it might be in his opinion.