There was something odd about females, and it was a mystery into which he did not at all want to enquire. They wore skirts, which perhaps concealed some abnormality, which would be fearful to contemplate. They had soft faces and soft bodies; when his mother took him on her knee--she already said that he was getting too big a boy to sit on her knee, which to Archie sounded very grand and delightful--she was soft to his shoulder, and her cheek was soft to his. But when he sat on his father's knee he felt a hard, firm substance behind him, and the contrast was similar to the contrast between his mother's soft cushions and his father's leather-clad chairs. And his father had a hard, bristly cheek on which to receive Archie's good-night kiss. Judged by the standards of pleasure and luxury, it was not nearly as nice as his mother's, but it gave him, however great need there was for caution, a sense of identity with himself. He was of that species... And this conception of abnormality in women was strongly confirmed when, one morning, he went as usual to his mother's bedroom to see her before she went down to breakfast. She had been late in getting up that day, and, not finding her in her bedroom, Archie's attention had been arrested by hearing sounds from her bathroom next door, and very naturally had turned the handle in order to enter. But a voice from inside had said: "Is that you, darling? Wait just a minute." "But I want to come in now," said Archie. "I'm coming in." "Archie, I shall be very angry if you come in before I give you leave," said the voice. Then there were rustlings. "Come in now." And there was his mother standing by her bath, which smelt deliciously fragrant, in a lovely blue bath-towel dressing-gown. "Good-morning, darling," said she. "But you must never come into a lady's bathroom unless she gives you leave." "Why not?" said Archie. "You come to see me in my bath without my saying 'Yes.'" She gave that delicious bubble of laughter that reminded Archie of the sound of cool lemonade being poured out of the bottle. "I shan't when you're as old as me," she said. "I shall always ask your leave. And probably you won't give it me." "Why not? It's only me," said Archie. "You'll know when you're older," said she.