The_Complete_Chronicles_of_Narnia_(volumes_1-7,_in_order_of_publication)

"Upon my word," he said to himself. "I'm dreadfully shaken. Most upsetting! And at my
time of life!"
He poured out a second glass and drank it too; then he began to change his clothes. You
have never seen such clothes, but I can remember them. He put on a very high, shiny,
stiff collar of the sort that made you hold your chin up all the time. He put on a white
waistcoat with a pattern on it and arranged his gold watch chain across the front. He put
on his best frock-coat, the one he kept for weddings and funerals. He got out his best tall
hat and polished it up. There was a vase of flowers (put there by Aunt Letty) on his
dressing table; he took one and put it in his buttonhole. He took a clean handkerchief (a
lovely one such as you couldn't buy today) out of the little lefthand drawer and put a few
drops of scent on it. He took his eye-glass, with the thick black ribbon, and screwed it
into his eye; then he looked at himself in the mirror.
Children have one kind of silliness, as you know, and grown-ups have another kind. At
this moment Uncle Andrew was beginning to be silly in a very grown-up way. Now that
the Witch was no longer in the same room with him he was quickly forgetting how she
had frightened him and thinking more and more of her wonderful beauty. He kept on
saying to himself, "A dem fine woman, sir, a dem fine woman. A superb creature." He
had also somehow managed to forget that it was the children who had got hold of this
"superb creature": he felt as if he himself by his Magic had called her out of unknown
worlds.
"Andrew, my boy," he said to himself as he looked in the glass, "you're a devilish well
preserved fellow for your age. A distinguished-looking man, sir."
You see, the foolish old man was actually beginning to imagine the Witch would fall in
love with him. The two drinks probably had something to do with it, and so had his best
clothes. But he was, in any case, as vain as a peacock; that was why he had become a
Magician.
He unlocked' the door, went downstairs, sent the housemaid out to fetch a hansom
(everyone had lots of servants in those days) and looked into the drawingroom. There, as
he expected, he found Aunt Letty. She was busily mending a mattress. It lay on the floor
near the window and she was kneeling on it.
"Ah, Letitia my dear," said Uncle Andrew, "I - ah have to go out. Just lend me five
pounds or so, there's a good gel." ("Gel" was the way he pronounced girl.)
"No, Andrew dear," said Aunty Letty in her firm, quiet voice, without looking up from
her work. "I've told you times without number that I will not lend you money."
"Now pray don't be troublesome, my dear gel," said Uncle Andrew. "It's most important.
You will put me in a deucedly awkward position if you don't."