It seemed easier to keep from crying with one's mouth in that unusual position.
'The Lamb,' mother went on; 'he was very good at first, but he's pulled the toilet-cover off the dressing-table with all the brushes and pots and things, and now he's so quiet I'm sure he's in some dreadful mischief.

And I can't see him from here, and if I'd got out of bed to see I'm sure I should have fainted.' 'Do you mean he's HERE ?' said Anthea.
'Of course he's here,' said mother, a little impatiently.

'Where did you think he was ?' Anthea went round the foot of the big mahogany bed.

There was a pause.
'He's not here NOW,' she said.
That he had been there was plain, from the toilet-cover on the floor, the scattered pots and bottles, the wandering brushes and combs, all involved in the tangle of ribbons and laces which an open drawer had yielded to the baby's inquisitive fingers.
'He must have crept out, then,' said mother; 'do keep him with you, there's a darling.

If I don't get some sleep I shall be a wreck when father comes home.' Anthea closed the door softly.