“To church? Oh!”
“She wanted to see how it would affect me.” “And did it?”
“Yes. I came over all funny, so she took me home again very quick. I wasn't sick after all. I went to bed and had hot brandy and water, and read The Boys of Beechwood. It was scrumptious.”
His mother bit her lip.
“When was that?”
“Oh! about—a long time ago—I wanted her to take me again, but she wouldn't. You and Daddy never go to church, do you?”
“No, we don't.”
“Why don't you?”
His mother smiled.
“Well, dear, we both of us went when we were little. Perhaps we went when we were too little.”