Here was Cousin Bornobby beside us, Cecily his women’s size four shoe swinging in a leather pouch around his belt so that it hung between his legs. Cousin Bornobby had a great collection of drawings and prints of women wearing very little clothing, all were found out in the heaps – somehow he always knew how to find them, he smelt them, he said, he had a particular snout for it. Bornobby was always extremely tired-looking, there were always brown and grey circles around his eyes. Bornobby washed with some sort of scented soap and you could always smell him coming, but always there was an undersmell with him, as if the ghost of a fish was following him about, swimming in his air. He had recently found something new in the heaps, and bored of it himself he now wondered if he could rent it out to us, it was an advertising pamphlet, it said:

CHAS. THOMPSON COMELY CORSETS

Glove-Fitting. Long-Waisted Perfection!! Sold by drapers. One million pairs annually.

Made in lengths 13, 14 and 15–inch. Fits like a Glove!!

If your draper cannot supply you write direct to 49, Old Bailey, London giving size, and enclosing P.O.O. and the Corset will at once be sent to you.

‘Not today, Bornobby,’ said Tummis, ‘it’s his Sitting today.’

‘Today is it?’ said Bornobby. ‘Then all the more reason. Come on, Clod, have a look at these corsets, do think of Pinalippy so attired.’

‘Bornobby, please not now,’ said Tummis, ‘don’t upset him.’

‘How about this one, this is something special, just for you, Tummis.’

PULVERMACHER’S ‘ELECTRIC SUSPENSOR BELT’

Muscular vigour is around the corner, Pulvermacher’s Galvanic Establishment,

194 Regent Street, London W. Established over 40 years. Every appliance warranted.

‘No, Bornobby,’ said Tummis, ‘I’m really not in the market today.’

But Bornobby was not to be so easily put off. He took hold of Tummis’s arm, but just at that moment the advertisements were plucked away by a different hand. Moorcus.

‘Thank you, gentlemen, I’ll look after these!’

‘Please, Moorcus!’ begged Bornobby.

‘Albert Powling!’

Turning about a little before Moorcus, Bornobby and Tummis, I saw Albert Powling, the whistle, and the Uncle Timfy that belonged to it. Then the others jumped because Timfy was blowing hard upon his Albert.

My Cousin Pinalippy

‘Clod Iremonger!’ called Timfy.

Albert Powling whistled me out of the dining hall, up the stairs, and all the way to the Sitting Room.

‘Nervous?’ Uncle asked.

‘A little,’ I admitted.

‘Know what’s on the other side of this door?’

‘One Cousin Pinalippy,’ I murmured.

‘How do you look?’ asked Timfy. ‘Pale and sweaty. What a prize you are. There’ll be many another cousin weeping for lost love now, I shouldn’t wonder. Surely you’re a heartbreaker, Clod.’

‘Is it time?’ I asked.

‘Very nearly.’

‘What’s it like, Uncle Timfy, what is marriage like?’