Percy, following at long last, said, “Werelioness? Of course. It fits perfectly. Do you think that’s what the Vanaras are? Hardly makes sense. That’s not how they are described in the text. Not cat-like at all. Do you think she’ll let me write a report for the Royal Society?”

Quesnel gave him a disgusted look. “Can’t you think about anything but your academic standing? This is a revelation of epic proportions! We now have proof that there are other shape-shifting creatures besides werewolves.”

“Exactly! The scientific community should know. I’m being altruistic. Selfish would be to keep this information secret.”

The two men stood – forgetting Primrose’s delicate state – the better to argue.

Quesnel said, “Our caller has obviously gone to great lengths to keep her condition out of the public arena. You should respect her wishes!”

“Oh, should I indeed? And your concern wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact that she is an incredibly lovely female specimen? Would it?”

Rue decided to ignore them in favour of her friend. “Do you think you could manage a little restorative tea, Prim?”

Primrose said, “I think so. Thank you. I haven’t forgiven you though, Rue. You knew she was coming and did not warn me? And here I am not in a receiving gown.”

“Is that why you fainted?”

Prim ignored this dig to continue her lament. “What will she think of me?”

Rue rolled her eyes. “For your information, I didn’t know she was coming. And even if I had made the connection, I thought she was kidnapped. I’m trying to act debonair. I’m surprised to have fooled you. I didn’t put it all together until she leapt on board.” She let the wide grin she’d been suppressing sweep across her face. “Isn’t this the cat’s whiskers? Werelioness. Did you ever imagine? Do you think she’ll let me steal her soul for a bit? I would so love to be a cat.”

Prim raised a hand. “Rue, stop, too much excitement. It’s worse than you being all suave. Calm down. How did she get here, then?”

Rue shrugged. “I sent for the werewolves but I suppose they’ve gone hunting. She must have found Spoo, or Spoo her. And stop worrying. She will think very well of you – everyone does. You look lovely. You always do.”

Rue helped Prim to butter a muffin. Prim’s hands were still shaking, and Rue knew exactly how she liked her muffin buttered. She then foisted another cup of tea on Primrose. Though a touch cold, Prim drank it gratefully as she nibbled her well-buttered muffin.

Once revived, Prim gave Rue a suspicious look. “You’re being awfully nice. What are you plotting?”

“Nothing as yet.”

Prim was not convinced. “You’re wearing a tea-gown and no gloves” She stated the obvious. “And you sent for werewolves. Haven’t you had enough soul-stealing for one evening?”