“What’s that your brother’s saying, Otter,” came the voice of Mr. Urquhart across the room. “Is he making rhymes about the waiter? Do ’ee tell him to be careful! Lovelace says a man was kicked out of his club in town for doing less than that; and besides⁠ ⁠… in this room, you know⁠ ⁠… though we’ve got⁠—”

He was interrupted by the clatter of a horse’s hooves outside the windows, and Wolf could just see, out there, the corner of a nursery-gardener’s cart crowded with blue hyacinths.

As Wolf stared at those flowers, he caught Urquhart’s eye.

“It’s nothing to you, Solent, I suppose,” he remarked, “but the proofs of my book came from Bristol this morning!”

Wolf murmured his congratulations; but into his mouth rose the sensation of the colour brown.