A look of sheer pain came into Mr. Otter’s face. “What put that into your head?” he cried. “I’ve not been talking about anyone you know, or anyone I know. I’ve been talking about the general mass of people. A person is allowed to talk about them .”

“You’re afraid that Roger Monk might be hiding behind that wall?”

The poet turned toward him his sorrowful grey eyes. “I don’t like to be upbraided,” he said gravely.

“I’m not upbraiding you,” protested Wolf. “Look! There are none but very harmless people in there!”