'It was just a little--well--perhaps just a _tiny_ bit ghastly, I thought; but don't tell Bruce.

That evening I thought the people weren't quite young enough, and when they played 'Oranges and Lemons, and the Bells of St Clements,' and so on--their bones seemed to--well, sort of rattle, if you know what I mean.

But still perhaps it was only my fancy.

Mitchell has such very high spirits, you see, and is determined to make everything go.

He won't have conventional parties, and insists on plenty of verve; so, of course, one's forced to have it.' He sighed.