“I do not,” said the Mother Superior to Master Spiderman, “wish to know what you are doing here, my good man. I want you simply to take your butterfly net and your filthy street urchins, and leave. Now.”

“Very good, ma’am.” Master Spiderman cringed. His hairy monkey face twisted with guilt. For an instant, it seemed as if he was going to do as he was told and go away. But the stunted and bewildered old soul, which had been hovering miserably up near the ceiling, suddenly decided that the Mother Superior was the one to keep it safe. It came down in a fluttering spiral and landed on her great white headdress, where it nestled, frail and quivering, upon the highest starched point. Master Spiderman stared at it urgently, with round monkey eyes.

“Off you go,” said the Mother Superior, “my good man.”

Master Spiderman’s face bunched up. “I’ll have this one at least,” Cat heard him mutter. He made one of his throwing gestures. “Freeze,” he said.

The Mother Superior promptly became as stiff and still as a statue. Most of the babies started to cry again.

“Good,” said Master Spiderman. “I never did hold with nuns. Nasty religious creatures.” He stood on tiptoe to swat the roosting old soul into his net. But the Mother Superior’s headdress was just too high for him. It flapped and rattled as he hit it, and the Mother Superior herself swayed about, and the soul, instead of being swatted into the net, was shot off sideways into the cradle that contained the twins. Both were bawling just then.

Cat saw the soul dive thankfully, but he did not see which twin got it, because Master Spiderman pushed him angrily aside and tried to unhook the cradle from the bed. “I’ll have this one at least!” he cried out. “I’ll start all over again, but I’ll have one!”

“You will not!” said the mother of the twins. She climbed out of bed and advanced on Master Spiderman. She was enormous. She had huge arms that looked as if they had ploughed and reaped fields, made dough and pounded washing clean, until they were stronger than the arms of most men. The rest of her was in a vast white nightgown with a frill round its neck and, on top of the frill, was a surprisingly pretty and very determined face.

Cat took one look at her and respectfully handed her his butterfly net as she marched past him. She gave him a nod of thanks and absently turned it back to front, with the net near her hand. “Let go that cradle,” she said, “or I shall make you very sorry.”

Master Spiderman hastily hooked the cradle on to the bed again and backed away. “Let’s be reasonable here, madam,” he said in his most oily and placating manner. “You have two fine babies there. Suppose I were to give you a gold piece for the pair of them.”

“I never,” said the huge lady, “heard anything so disgusting in my life!” And she swung the shaft of the butterfly net with both hands.