It wasn’t an old Bordeaux – but it was a heavy Bordeaux. The little room was dimly lit from next door, it was so warm and secret, and we cuddled each other.

‘Already?’ I asked. The ladies wanted to go to sleep.

‘But leave the door open when you’re in bed – so I can hear what you’re saying!’ I went and undressed for bed. Then I knocked.

‘Will you . . .!’ said the Princess’ voice. ‘Disturbing honorable ladies at their toilette! Voyeur! Lothario! Bluebeard! What a race of idiots!’

But where was my eau de cologne? It was in there – that wasn’t on either! Not for a gentleman. I gave another knock. Rustling.

‘Yes?’ I went in.

They were lying in bed. Billie was in mine: in loud pyjamas, with hundreds of flowers blossoming on them, she looked like the favorite wife of a Maharajah . . . she was smiling coolly at her crossword. She was almost beautiful. ‘What do you want?’ asked the Princess.

‘My eau . . .’

‘We used it all up!’ she said. ‘Now don’t cry – I’ll buy you some more tomorrow!’

I growled. ‘Did you finish your crossword?’

‘If we need you, we’ll call you . . . You can come and say good night to us!’ I went over to them, and politely wished them both a good night, with two low bows.

‘Billie, what a lovely perfume!’ She said nothing; I knew what it was. The perfume was ‘working’ on her skin – it was not only the perfume, it was her. And she had chosen well for herself. The Princess got a kiss from me, a very slightly regretful kiss. Then I went. The door stayed open.

‘Semi-precious stone,’ I heard Billie saying. ‘Semi-precious stone . . . Let’s see: sapphire . . . no. Ruby . . . no. Opal . . . no. Lydia!’

‘Topaz!’ I called out from my room.

‘Yes – topaz! What a clever boy you are!’ said the Princess.

‘No, no, don’t you write it in – let me –’ They were squabbling, the bedding rustled, paper scrunched . . . ‘Eeek –!’ Billie squealed. Something tore.

‘Silly noodle!’ said the Princess. ‘Right – now we’ll copy it out again on this bit of paper . . . Oh-oh, something’s wrong! We crossed out some wrong syllables . . .’

‘Doctor Parchment solves puzzles without the aid of a pencil!’ I called out. They weren’t even listening. They were probably hard at work. Pause.

I heard the Princess, ‘Puff . . . Did you ever see anything like it? What’s Puff?’

‘Breath!’ said Billie and I at the same time. It was like a secret understanding between us. They rustled some more.

‘That’s completely wrong! The essence of all sensory perception – sensory perception . . .’ Now they were obviously at their wits’ ends, because they had both gone very quiet. I couldn’t hear anything.

‘I don’t know . . .’ said the Princess. ‘It’s bound to be a misprint!’

‘You don’t get misprints in crossword puzzles!’ I called.

‘You keep out of it, clever-dick!’

‘Let me . . .’

‘Give it here . . .’

‘Do you have any idea?’