leman smiled feebly and then frowned--not a cross-frown,
but a puzzle-frown.

'Thank you,' he said, 'I shall always be pleased if you'll look in--any
time you're passing you know--at least...'

'I will,' she said; 'goodbye. I'll always tell you anything I MAY tell.'

He had not had many adventures with children in them, and he wondered
whether all children were like these. He spent quite five minutes in
wondering before he settled down to the fifty-second chapter of his
great book on 'The Secret Rites of the Priests of Amen Ra'.

It is no use to pretend that the children did not feel a good deal of
agitation at the thought of going through the charm into the Past. That
idea, that perhaps they might stay in the Past and never get back again,
was anything but pleasing. Yet no one would have dared to suggest that
the charm should not be used; and though each was in its heart very
frightened indeed, they would all have joined in jeering at the
cowardice of any one of them who should have uttered the timid but
natural suggestion, 'Don't let's!'

It seemed necessary to make arrangements for being out all day, for
there was no reason to suppose that the sound of the dinner-bell would
be able to reach back into the Past, and it seemed unwise to excite old
Nurse's curiosity when nothing they could say--not even the truth--could
in any way satisfy it. They were all very proud to think how well they
had understood what the charm and the Psammead had said about Time and
Space and things like that, and they were perfectly certain that it
would be quite impossible to make old Nurse understand a single word
of it. So they merely asked her to let them take their dinner out into
Regent's Park--and this, with the implied cold mutton and tomatoes, was
readily granted.

'You can get yourselves some buns or sponge-cakes, or whatever you
fancy-like,' said old Nurse, giving Cyril a shilling. 'Don't go getting
jam-tarts, now--so messy at the best of times, and without forks and
plates ruination to your clothes, besides your not being able to wash
your hands and faces afterwards.'

So Cyril took the shilling, and they all started off. They went round
by the Tottenham Court Road to buy a piece of waterproof sheeting to put
over the Psammead in case it should be raining in the Past when they got
there. For it is almost certain death to a Psammead to get wet.

The sun was shining very brightly, and even London looked pretty. Women
were