What is that?

―What, sir?

―Again, sir. We didn’t hear.

Their eyes grew bigger as the lines were repeated. After a silence Cochrane said:

―What is it, sir? We give it up.

Stephen, his throat itching, answered:

―The fox burying his grandmother under a hollybush.

He stood up and gave a shout of nervous laughter to which their cries echoed dismay.

A stick struck the door and a voice in the corridor called:

―Hockey!