“Are you asleep, Teddy?”
“I are and I aren’t,” said Teddy.
“I forght I were, and I weren’t,” said Miss Waterlow.
“Well, well, what is it?”
“What’s a word for a lovely—a lovely—you know what I mean—and all of a sudden—only you don’t because—what is the word, Teddy?”
“Condensedmilk,” said Teddy.
“I don’t fink it is,” said Miss Waterlow.
“As near as you can get nowadays.”
Miss Waterlow sighed. She never seemed to get very near.
“Perhaps I shall never tell them,” said Miss Waterlow sadly. “Perhaps they don’t have the word.”