He Wants To Go

I suppose we should be going, Mother, says David. No doubt you'll be wanting to get home to your bed.

Nothing of the kind, David! says Mrs Hume. I've made the effort to get my glad rags on and I mean to make a night of it.

Well said, Mrs Hume! says Darwin. And I must say you do look very nice. Would you welcome a suggestion?

No, we wouldn't, says David. Thank you all the same.

Yes we would, says Mrs Hume. Please forgive my David, Mr Darwin. He can be very rude.

Think nothing of it, says Darwin, gallantly. I am often rude myself.

Oh, I can't believe that, says Mrs Hume. You have such a lovely way about you. You had the audience eating out of your hand just now, pretending to be birds and fish, and doing South American dances.

A little talent of mine, smiles Darwin.

Well now, Mother, let's be off, says David. We'll miss our bus.

Oh dear, the bus, says Mrs Hume. I don't think I can face it.

May I offer you a lift? says Darwin. As well as my suggestion.

A lift would be most apropos, says Mrs Hume.

David grimaces. Why must she say things like that?

And what is your suggestion, Mr Darwin? asks Mrs Hume.

If you would care to accompany me to the Royal Institution, I believe we'll be just in time to see a performance of Faraday's Candle, says Darwin. The invitation extends to both of you, of course.

Oh lovely! says Mrs Hume. Come on, David. You know you want to go.

Yes Mother, says David. I know I want to go.