The rest of the crowd followed suit with weak laughter. Instead of passing on, as Jack expected, these persons stopped opposite the cage, when one of them, as he judged from the sound, for he did not dare to look out of his hiding place, dismounted. “Come,” he said, “you can’t be meaning to bury yourself. She hastened past. He beamed a little as she disappeared into the orchestra room, a cacophony of tuning instruments. That’s my advice. Wood did think of it, and groaned aloud. What he needed was not a food but a flavour; and the cocoanut taste of the chestnuts soothed his burning tongue and throat.
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