‘I don’t care for him as I do for Loozie. He’s hateful really.’
A smile twisted Gudrun’s face, as she recovered. She knew she was revealed. ‘Don’t they make the most fearful noise when they scream?’ she cried, the high note in her voice, like a sea-gull’s cry.
‘Abominable,’ he said.
‘He shouldn’t be so silly when he has to be taken out,’ Winifred was saying, putting out her hand and touching the rabbit tentatively, as it skulked under his arm, motionless as if it were dead.
‘He’s not dead, is he Gerald?’ she asked.
‘No, he ought to be,’ he said.