MY Grandmother like everybody's grandmother, was an old woman.She had been old and wrinkled for the twenty years that I had now her. People said that she had once been young and pretty and had even had a husband that she once been young and pretty and had even had a husband but that was hard to believe. My grandfather's portrait hung above the mantelpiece in the drawing room. He wore a big turban and loose- fitting clothes. His long, white beard covered the best part of his chest and he looked at least a hundred years old. He did not look the sort of person who would have a wife or children. He looked as if he could only have lots and lots of grandchildren. she often told us of the games she used to play as a child. that seemed quit absurd and undignified on her part and we treated it like the fables of the prophets she used to tell us.