It tipped a little as it landed, so that Cyril and Anthea naturally walked off it, and in an instant it had rolled itself up and hidden behind a gate-post.

It did this so quickly that not a single person in the Deptford Road noticed it.

The Phoenix rustled its way into the breast of Cyril's coat, and almost at the same moment a well-known voice remarked-- 'Well, I never! What on earth are you doing here ?' They were face to face with their pet uncle--their Uncle Reginald.
'We DID think of going to Greenwich Palace and talking about Nelson,' said Cyril, telling as much of the truth as he thought his uncle could believe.
'And where are the others ?' asked Uncle Reginald.
'I don't exactly know,' Cyril replied, this time quite truthfully.
'Well,' said Uncle Reginald, 'I must fly.

I've a case in the County Court.

That's the worst of being a beastly solicitor.