Then he stroked his chin and looked at her thoughtfully.
"I suppose you've been left here," he said, "to look after the children."
Doris nodded.
"Well, then, you ought to know," he said, "that there are two things that children love more than anything else. One of them's water and the other's staircases. And they're both a bit dangerous. So they each have a patron saint."
"I see," said Doris. "And who's the patron saint of water?"
"Fellow called Fat Bill," he said. "He's my younger brother."
"That seems a queer name," said Doris, "for a saint."
"Well, he's a queer fellow," said St Uncus, "but we've both been lucky."
Doris couldn't help looking at his crooked back, and his deformed left arm, and his right stump.
"Ah, yes," he said; "but you mustn't judge by those. That's the very mistake that I made. You see, I once fell down a staircase myself, two or three years after staircases were invented."