“And then as regards oneself，” Uncle Andrew continued in a happy dream. “there’s no knowing how long I might live if I settled here. And that‘s a big consideration when a fellow has turned sixty. I shouldn’t be surprised if I never grew a day older in this country！ Stupendous！ The land of youth！”
“Oh！” cried Digory. “The land of youth！ Do you think it really is？” For of course he remembered what Aunt Letty had said to the lady who brought the grapes， and that sweet hope rushed back upon him. “Uncle Andrew，” he said， “do you think there‘s anything here that would cure Mother？”
“What are you talking about？” said Uncle Andrew. “This isn’t a chemist‘s shop. But as I was saying.”
“You don’t care twopence about her，” said Digory savagely. “I thought you might； after all， she‘s your sister as well as my Mother. Well， no matter. I’m jolly well going to ask the Lion himself if he can help me.” And he turned and walked briskly away. Polly waited for a moment and then went after him.
“Here！ Stop！ Come back！ The boy‘s gone mad，” said Uncle Andrew. He followed the children at a cautious distance behind； for he didn’t want to get too far away from the green rings or too near the Lion.
