He had avoided children as he had avoided women, and now he found himself seated, the centre of interest, at a family tea-table, with Jean, anxiously making tea to his liking, while Mhor (with a well-soaped, shining face, but a high-water mark of dirt where the sponge had not reached) sat close beside him, and Jock, the big schoolboy, shyly handed him scones: and Peter walked among the feet of the company, waiting for what he could get.
Peter Reid quite shone through the meal.

He remembered episodes of his boyhood, forgotten for forty years, and told them to Jock and Mhor, who listened with most gratifying interest.

He questioned Jock about Priorsford Grammar School, and recalled stories of the masters who had taught there in his day.
Jean told him about David going to Oxford, and about Great-aunt Alison who had "come out at the Disruption"-- about her father's life in India, and about her mother, and he became every minute more human and interested.

He even made one or two small jokes which were received with great applause by Jock and Mhor, who were grateful to anyone who tried, however feebly, to be funny.

They would have said with Touchstone, "It is meat and drink to me to see a clown." Jean watched with delight her rather difficult guest blossom into affability.