Before he had reached her room he had begun a rehearsal of the conversation he expected, his insufferable laughter punctuating every other sentence whatever its gist.

‘My lady,’ he said, when he had reached her door and was showing the Countess and Mrs Slagg nothing except his head around the door-post in a decapitated manner, before entering. ‘My lady, ha, ha, he he. I heard your voice downstairs as I er – was –’

‘Tippling,’ said Lady Groan.

‘Ha, ha – how very right you are, how very very right you are, ha, ha, ha, he, as I was, as you so graphically put it, ha, ha, tippling. Down it came, ha, ha – down it came.’

‘What came?’ interrupted the Countess loudly.

‘Your voice,’ said Prunesquallor, raising his right hand and deliberately placing the tips of his thumb and little finger together, ‘your voice located me in the Coldroom. Oh yes, it did!’

The Countess stared at him heavily and then dug her elbows into the pillow.

Mrs Slagg had rocked the baby to sleep.

Doctor Prunesquallor was running a long tapering forefinger up and down a stalactite of wax and smiling horribly.

‘I called you’, said the Countess, ‘to tell you, Prunesquallor, that tomorrow I get up.’

‘Oh, he, ha, ha, oh ha, ha, my ladyship, oh, ha, ha, my ladyship – tomorrow?’

‘Tomorrow,’ said the Countess, ‘why not?’

‘Professionally speaking –’ began Doctor Prunesquallor.

‘Why not?’ repeated the Countess interrupting him.

‘Ha, ha, most abnormal, most unusual, ha, ha, ha, most unique, so very soon.’

‘So you would docket me, would you, Prunesquallor? I thought you would; I guessed it. I get up tomorrow – tomorrow at dawn.’

Doctor Prunesquallor shrugged his narrow shoulders and raised his eyes. Then placing the tips of his fingers together and addressing the dark ceiling above him, ‘I advise, but never order,’ he said, in a tone which implied that he could have done any amount of ordering had he thought it necessary. ‘Ha ha, ha, oh no! I only advise.’

‘Rubbish,’ said the Countess.

‘I do not think so,’ replied Prunesquallor, still gazing upwards. ‘Ha, ha, ha, ha, oh no! not at all.’ As he finished speaking his eyes for a second travelled downwards at great speed and took in the image of the Countess in bed and then even more rapidly swam up the glasses. What he had seen disquieted him, for he had found in her expression such a concentration of distaste that as he deflected his gaze away from her he found that his feet were moving backwards one after the other and that he was at the door before he knew that he had decided what to do. Bowing quickly he withdrew his body from the bedroom.

‘Isn’t he sweet, oh isn’t he the sweetest drop of sugar that ever was?’ said Mrs Slagg.

‘Who?’ shouted the Countess so loudly that a string of tallow wavered in the shifting light.

The baby awoke at the sound and moaned, and Nannie Slagg retreated.