The merry house-party at the place of his Cambridge friend….
Yuletide at The Towers, where he had first met Alice!
Ah!
Ten hours passed rapidly thus…
. . . . . . .
[AUTHOR. I put dots to denote the flight of years. EDITOR. Besides, it will give the reader time for a sandwich.]
Robert got up and shook himself.
[EDITOR. One moment. This is a Christmas story. When are you coming to the robin?
AUTHOR. I really can't be bothered about robins just now. I assure you all the best Christmas stories begin like this nowadays. We may get to a robin later; I cannot say.
EDITOR. We must. My readers expect a robin, and they shall have it.
And a wassail-bowl, and a turkey, and a Christmas-tree, and a—