The voices died away in the distance. The tenseness of William's form relaxed. His fixed look of horror and apprehension faded. He ran his fingers through his hair.
"Crumbs!" he whispered.
It seemed hours before the door opened and Joan staggered in with a bundle.
"Quick, William darling," she whispered. "Put them on, an' we'll go home. No one saw me getting them. I'm 'fraid they'll be a bit big, but we can turn things up."
A WOMAN CAME OUT, SAW WILLIAM, AND GAVE A PIERCING
SCREAM OF MIRTH. TWO SMALL CHILDREN FOLLOWED
AND JOINED IN THE SHRIEKS OF MERRIMENT.
WILLIAM CERTAINLY LOOKED VERY QUEER. JOAN
HADN'T REALISED THAT THE SUIT WOULD BE QUITE
SO MUCH TOO BIG.
Her fear was justified. Mr. James Clive, her father, was six-foot-six in height. On William, his coat nearly touched the ground. His trousers, though rolled up bulkily at the ends till they could be rolled up no more, considerably impeded William's progress.
"Oh, William, they'll do," she whispered at last. "They are a bit big, but they'll do."