My father’s narrative manner was low-keyed and undramatic, pausing and conversational. His listener was fully receptive and uncritical, tired after a long day of childhood, relaxed after supper and a bath, happy with the kind of story which was familiar and singular to himself; and with the gratification of the story-teller being there, leaning with clasped hands upon the high brass rail at the foot of the bed. You were free to ask questions and interrupt.
