Of course they lived at 14 [their house number on their street], anduntil Wendy came her mother was the chief one. She was a lovely lady,with a romantic mind and such a sweet mocking mouth. Her romanticmind was like the tiny boxes, one within the other, that come from thepuzzling East, however many you discover there is always one more; andher sweet mocking mouth had one kiss on it that Wendy could never get,though there it was, perfectly conspicuous in the right-hand corner.The way Mr. Darling won her was this: the many gentlemen who had beenboys when she was a girl discovered simultaneously that they loved her,and they all ran to her house to propose to her except Mr. Darling, whotook a cab and nipped in first, and so he got her. He got all of her,except the innermost box and the kiss. He never knew about the box, andin time he gave up trying for the kiss. Wendy thought Napoleon couldhave got it, but I can picture him trying, and then going off in apassion, slamming the door.Mr. Darling used to boast to Wendy that her mother not only loved himbut respected him. He was one of those deep ones who know about stocksand shares. Of course no one really knows, but he quite seemed to know,and he often said stocks were up and shares were down in a way thatwould have made any woman respect him.