Peter did not answer.

He shrugged his shoulders.

He was thinking.
Thought, however, could not long keep itself from the suitable furnishing of a bandit's lair in the attic.

Peter was the bandit, of course.

Bobbie was his lieutenant, his band of trusty robbers, and, in due course, the parent of Phyllis, who was the captured maiden for whom a magnificent ransom--in horse-beans--was unhesitatingly paid.
They all went down to tea flushed and joyous as any mountain brigands.
But when Phyllis was going to add jam to her bread and butter, Mother said:-- "Jam OR butter, dear--not jam AND butter.