asked Birkin.

‘Probably,’ said Gerald.

Meanwhile Ursula was peeping under one of the cloths. There sat the canary in a corner, bunched and fluffed up for sleep.

‘How ridiculous!’ she cried. ‘It really thinks the night has come! How absurd! Really, how can one have any respect for a creature that is so easily taken in!’

‘Yes,’ sang Hermione, coming also to look. She put her hand on Ursula’s arm and chuckled a low laugh. ‘Yes, doesn’t he look comical?’ she chuckled. ‘Like a stupid husband.’

Then, with her hand still on Ursula’s arm, she drew her away, saying, in her mild sing-song: