Christopher and I were sitting by the fire. We were very peaceful and happy together, pretending to look at a book but really doing nothing at all.
Then Dorothy came into the room. Dorothy is Christopher's cousin and six years old. Not that her age matters—six, sixteen or sixty, they are all the same.
"What are you doing?" inquired Dorothy.
"Nothing," murmured Christopher contentedly.
"I wanted you to come and play with me."
Christopher shuffled uneasily and I came to the rescue.
"Not now, Dorothy," I said; "we are too comfortable. Come and have a look at this book with us."
Dorothy looked at me as though she had just realised my presence.
"I want Christopher to come and play with me," she repeated.