IXTHEY KNOCKED AT THE door, and Cyril followed his aunts into grandfather's hot, sweetish room.
"Come on," said Grandfather Pinner. "Don't hang about. What is it? What've you been up to?"
He was sitting in front of a roaring fire, clasping his stick. He had a thick rug over his knees. On his lap there lay a beautiful pale yellow silk handkerchief.
"It's Cyril, father," said Josephine shyly. And she took Cyril's hand and led him forward.
"Good afternoon, grandfather," said Cyril, trying to take his hand out of Aunt Josephine's. Grandfather Pinner shot his eyes at Cyril in the way he was famous for. Where was Auntie Con? She stood on the other side of Aunt Josephine; her long arms hung down in front of her; her hands were clasped. She never took her eyes off grandfather.
"Well," said Gr
