If you come to think of it, he was the only person who could
know where they were, because Jimmy didn't know that he was a
boy and indeed he wasn't really and the Ugly-Wugly couldn't be
expected to know anything real, such as where boys were. At the
moment when the second cup of dolls tea very strong, but not
strong enough to drown care in was being poured out by the
trembling hand of Kathleen, Gerald was lurking there really is no
other word for it on the staircase of Aldermanbury Buildings, Old
Broad Street. On the floor below him was a door bearing the
legend "MR. U. W. UGLI, Stock and Share Broker (and at the
Stock Exchange)" and on the floor above was another door, on
which was the name of Gerald's little brother, now grown suddenly
rich in so magic and tragic a way. There were no explaining words
under Jimmy's name. Gerald could not guess what walk in life it
was to which That (which had been Jimmy) owed its affluence. He
had seen, when the door opened to admit his brother, a tangle of
clerks and mahogany desks. Evidently That had a large business.
What was Gerald to do? What could he do?
It is almost impossible, especially for one so young as Gerald, to
enter a large London office and explain that the elderly and
respected head of it is not what he seems, but is really your little
brother, who has been suddenly advanced to age and wealth by a
tricky wishing ring.
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