“That was thoughtful of you, Pongo,” said Ronny. “Now, tell me.” He turned to Bill. “If a whacking great bell started ringing within a few inches of your ear at half past six in the morning, what would you say about it?”

“Oh, Lord,” said Bill. “I should say⁠—”

He came to a stop.

“Of course you would,” said Ronny. “So would I. So would anyone. What they call the ‘natural man’ would emerge. Well, it didn’t. So I say that Pongo is right⁠—as usual⁠—and that Gerry has got an obscure disease of the eardrums.”

“It’s now twenty past twelve,” said one of the other girls sadly.

“I say,” said Jimmy slowly, “that’s a bit beyond anything, isn’t it? I mean a joke’s a joke. But this is carrying it a bit far. It’s a shade hard on the Cootes.”

Bill stared at him.