there is no likeness between us? If we keep quite still perhaps it
will go away."

"I've got it," cried Betty, and the old lady woke up with a jerk.

"What are you doing, child?" she said crossly.

"Your little girl, madam," I began--but Betty's ball bit me on the
head again before I could develop my theme.

"Your little girl, sir," began the old lady at the same moment.

"I said it first," I murmured. "Betty," I went on aloud, "what is
your name, my child?"

"You've just said it."

"I mean," I corrected myself quickly, "where do you live?"

"Kensington."

I looked triumphantly at the old lady. Surely a father wouldn't need
to ask his own child where she lived? However, the old lady was
asleep again. I turned to Betty.

"We shall have to play this game more quietly," I said. "In fact, we
had better make some new rules. Instead of hitting me on the head
each time, you can roll the ball gently along the floor to me, and I
shall roll it gently back to you. And the one who misses it first
goes to bed."