Meanwhile Timmy, upstairs, had performed what was for him quite an elaborate toilet.

He possessed a new Eton suit of which he was secretly proud, for in this as in so many things unlike most little boys, he took great care of his clothes, and had an almost finicking dislike to what was rough or untidy.

His two younger sisters' untidiness was a perpetual annoyance to him, and he still felt sore and angry at the way Rosamund had upset his toy-box when looking for that old prescription.
To-night he felt queerly excited and above himself.

After-dinner coffee had been made in a way Betty had learnt in France, and she had foolishly allowed him to drink a cup of the strong, potent, delicious fluid.

This had had a curious effect on him, intensifying his already acute perceptions, and making him feel both brave and bold as well as wary--wary Timmy Tosswill always was.
And now he was eagerly debating within himself whether he could carry out an experiment he had an eager wish to try.