III + 

NurseтАЩs mother was ill. Strange unparalleled nursery catastrophe. Nurse, very red-faced and grim, was packing with the assistance of Susan Isabel. Vernon, troubled, sympathetic, but above all interested, stood nearby, and out of his interest, asked questions. + 

тАЬIs your mother very old, Nurse? Is she a hundred?тАЭ + 

тАЬOf course not, Master Vernon. A hundred indeed!тАЭ + 

тАЬDo you think she is going to die?тАЭ continued Vernon, longing to be kind and understand. + 

CookтАЩs mother had been ill and died. Nurse did not answer. Instead she said sharply: + 

тАЬThe boot-bags out of the bottom drawer, Susan. Step lively now, my girl.тАЭ + 

тАЬNurse, will your motherтБатАФтАЭ + 

тАЬI havenтАЩt time to be answering questions, Master Vernon.тАЭ + 

Vernon sat down on the corner of a chintz-covered ottoman and gave himself up to reflection. Nurse had said that her mother wasnтАЩt a hundred, but she must, for all that, be very old. Nurse herself he had always regarded as terribly old. To think that there was a being of superior age and wisdom to Nurse was positively staggering. In a strange way it reduced Nurse herself to the proportions of a mere human being. She was no longer a figure secondary only to God himself. + 

The Universe shiftedтБатАФvalues were readjusted. Nurse, God, and Mr.┬аGreenтБатАФall three receded, becoming vaguer and more blurred. Mummy, his father, even Aunt NinaтБатАФseemed to matter more. Especially Mummy. Mummy was like the princesses with long beautiful golden hair. He would like to fight a dragon for MummyтБатАФa brown shiny dragon like the Beast. + 

What was the wordтБатАФthe magic word? BrumagemтБатАФthat was itтБатАФBrumagem. An enchanting word! The Princess Brumagem! A word to be repeated over to himself softly and secretly at night at the same time as Damn and Corsets. + 

But never, never, never must Mummy hear itтБатАФbecause he knew only too well that she would laughтБатАФshe always laughed, the kind of laugh that made you shrivel up inside and want to wriggle. And she would say thingsтБатАФshe always said things, just the kind of things you hated. тАЬArenтАЩt children too funny?тАЭ + 

And Vernon knew that he wasnтАЩt funny. He didnтАЩt like funny thingsтБатАФUncle Sydney had said so. If only Mummy wouldnтАЩtтБатАКтБатАж + 

Sitting on the slippery chintz he frowned perplexedly. He had a sudden imperfect glimpse of two Mummies. One, the princess, the beautiful Mummy that he dreamt about, who was mixed up for him with sunsets and magic and killing dragonsтБатАФand the otherтБатАФthe one who laughed and who said, тАЬArenтАЩt children too funny?тАЭ Only, of course, they were the same.тБатАКтБатАж + 

He fidgeted and sighed. Nurse, flushed from the effort of snapping to her trunk, turned to him kindly. + 

тАЬWhatтАЩs the matter, Master Vernon?тАЭ + 

тАЬNothing,тАЭ said Vernon. + 

You must always say тАЬNothing.тАЭ You could never tell. Because, if you did, no one ever knew what you meantтБатАКтБатАж + 