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“It ought to be,” Hyacinth muttered

“Well, that’s true,” Lady D agreed, “but we didn’t write the story, did we?”

Hyacinth cleared her throat and once again found her place in the text “He was co closer,” she read, “and Miss Bumbleshoot—”

“Hyacinth!”

“Butterworth,” Hyacinth grumbled “Whatever her name is, she ran for the cliffs End of chapter”

“The cliffs? Still? Wasn’t she running at the end of the last chapter?”

“Perhaps it’s a long way”

Lady Danbury narrowed her eyes “I don’t believe you”

Hyacinth shrugged “It is certainly true that I would lie to you to get out of reading the next few paragraphs of Priscilla Butterworth’s re the truth” When Lady D didn’t say anything, Hyacinth held out the book, and asked, “Would you like to check for yourself?”

“No, no,” Lady Danbury said, with a great show of acceptance “I believe you, if only because I have no choice”

Hyacinth gave her a pointed look “Are you blind now, as well as deaf?”

“No” Lady D sighed, letting one hand flutter until it rested palh drama”

Hyacinth laughed out loud

“I do not jest,” Lady Danbury said, her voice returning to its usual sharp tenor “And I ae in life I could do a better job on the stage than most of those fools who call themselves actresses”

“Sadly,” Hyacinth said, “there doesn’t see countess roles”