knows he may have undergone a spectacular moral conversion, and the drilling of small boys in the basics of Latin grammar is all part of the penitential process. I don’t think Primrose thought much of that as she remarked dryly that sometimes talking to me was not unlike talking to her deceased brother.
She also insisted it was obvious that no such conversion had occurred as quite by chance she had overheard Topping engaged in a highly suspect telephone conversation with some unknown. ‘Ah,’ I said, ‘and I suppose you just happened to have been passing and by chance had stooped to tie your shoelace?’ She said it was exactly that and how shrewd of me to have guessed. The few fragments she cited – ‘far too much at stake’, ‘we can’t let that go on’ and something about ‘fifty grand’ didn’t really amount to much – though I suppose the last might be an unusual term from a quiet schoolmaster – but clearly Primrose sets great store by such ‘evidence’. And since it had not been my ear clamped to the keyhole, possibly I am in no position to judge … Thus I said that she had better watch out she doesn’t get a knife in her back, and in the meantime was it too much to ask if I might be allowed a drop more whisky. She said it certainly was too much and promptly filled my glass to the brim.
Yes, a most amicable evening; and on reflection I really quite like that dog of hers. With luck he and Duster might get on – though one will need to beware the cat.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The Dog’s View
‘You see, Maurice,’ I told him, ‘she said I was sweet. Now that’s something, isn’t it!’
‘Dilooded,’ the cat replied, ‘just like our master was. It’s amazing how blinkered human beings can be.’
Maurice has a thing about ‘dilooshun’ and says the word a lot: he likes it. I think it means you don’t know what you are talking about. Well you can’t say that about Bouncer because I know , you see. And I know that although P.O. is the sister of F.O. she is not dilooded. She is like me: got a sixth sense. So if she thinks I’m SWEET you bet she’s right – and if she thinks Top-Ho is BAD then most likely he is!
Mind you, I thought that Charles person we saw this evening was NOT bad, especially as he’s got that really good whiff about him. It reminds me of a Jack Russell I used to know … Cor! He was a good mouser if ever there was one. Put old Maurice in the shade all right. Anyway, I made sure I was on my best behaviour as I quite liked that Charles – a bit like F.O. really (though the vicar was dafter, of course).And I also like a good trouser leg. Ladies’ stockings aren’t nearly as good: sort of thin and cold and they don’t pick up spoor in the same way … Hmm I wonder whose spoor that was? I’ll have to do a bit more sniffing around and find out. Just like P.O. with that Topping person: we’ve both got to keep our muzzles to the ground. As a matter of fact, the Prim has got quite a long muzzle but I bet I get there first.
Maurice says he did not dis like that Charles person … So crikey that’s a turn up for the bones. If the cat didn’t dislike the visitor then he must be all right! Perhaps we’ll see more of him. I hope so because I’d like to discover more about that nice niffy trouser leg, it had a really matey smell.
Later
Do you know what? There is a cairn in the neighbourhood and it’s called Duster. Maurice has been quite useful and made some enquiries of that Persian friend of his, the cat with a face like a grey mop – Eleanor I think her name is. Anyway, Mop Face says that Duster belongs to a tall man who lives in a big house just outside the town. Now being what you might call a sharp sort of dog I’ve put one and one together and made TWO . (Maurice says I’m getting jolly good at my numbers these days.) So number one is that the man here last night was tall; and the next number one is that his trouser leg smelt of cairn . So putting those
She also insisted it was obvious that no such conversion had occurred as quite by chance she had overheard Topping engaged in a highly suspect telephone conversation with some unknown. ‘Ah,’ I said, ‘and I suppose you just happened to have been passing and by chance had stooped to tie your shoelace?’ She said it was exactly that and how shrewd of me to have guessed. The few fragments she cited – ‘far too much at stake’, ‘we can’t let that go on’ and something about ‘fifty grand’ didn’t really amount to much – though I suppose the last might be an unusual term from a quiet schoolmaster – but clearly Primrose sets great store by such ‘evidence’. And since it had not been my ear clamped to the keyhole, possibly I am in no position to judge … Thus I said that she had better watch out she doesn’t get a knife in her back, and in the meantime was it too much to ask if I might be allowed a drop more whisky. She said it certainly was too much and promptly filled my glass to the brim.
Yes, a most amicable evening; and on reflection I really quite like that dog of hers. With luck he and Duster might get on – though one will need to beware the cat.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The Dog’s View
‘You see, Maurice,’ I told him, ‘she said I was sweet. Now that’s something, isn’t it!’
‘Dilooded,’ the cat replied, ‘just like our master was. It’s amazing how blinkered human beings can be.’
Maurice has a thing about ‘dilooshun’ and says the word a lot: he likes it. I think it means you don’t know what you are talking about. Well you can’t say that about Bouncer because I know , you see. And I know that although P.O. is the sister of F.O. she is not dilooded. She is like me: got a sixth sense. So if she thinks I’m SWEET you bet she’s right – and if she thinks Top-Ho is BAD then most likely he is!
Mind you, I thought that Charles person we saw this evening was NOT bad, especially as he’s got that really good whiff about him. It reminds me of a Jack Russell I used to know … Cor! He was a good mouser if ever there was one. Put old Maurice in the shade all right. Anyway, I made sure I was on my best behaviour as I quite liked that Charles – a bit like F.O. really (though the vicar was dafter, of course).And I also like a good trouser leg. Ladies’ stockings aren’t nearly as good: sort of thin and cold and they don’t pick up spoor in the same way … Hmm I wonder whose spoor that was? I’ll have to do a bit more sniffing around and find out. Just like P.O. with that Topping person: we’ve both got to keep our muzzles to the ground. As a matter of fact, the Prim has got quite a long muzzle but I bet I get there first.
Maurice says he did not dis like that Charles person … So crikey that’s a turn up for the bones. If the cat didn’t dislike the visitor then he must be all right! Perhaps we’ll see more of him. I hope so because I’d like to discover more about that nice niffy trouser leg, it had a really matey smell.
Later
Do you know what? There is a cairn in the neighbourhood and it’s called Duster. Maurice has been quite useful and made some enquiries of that Persian friend of his, the cat with a face like a grey mop – Eleanor I think her name is. Anyway, Mop Face says that Duster belongs to a tall man who lives in a big house just outside the town. Now being what you might call a sharp sort of dog I’ve put one and one together and made TWO . (Maurice says I’m getting jolly good at my numbers these days.) So number one is that the man here last night was tall; and the next number one is that his trouser leg smelt of cairn . So putting those
Similar Books
