In other words, we Mamils are pathetic creatures, cramming our spreading midriffs into unsightly spandex sports gear and spending unfeasible sums of money on custom-made carbon-fibre racing bikes.

Fiery darts in flaming volies flew.

But the children did; they were left to the tender mercy of their old Mother and were allowed to enjoy nearly a full hour of nakedising.

The story had a fablelike quality.