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'Have I made it clear what it means to put the clock on?' he enquired, with no expectancy that the reply would be that he had.

'No.' She shook her head.

He laughed.

'You are lazy,' he told her. 'Had you been a boy, and had you lived a few decades ago, your bottom would have been furrowed up by the cane; fessée after fessée would have been your lot.'

She slowly sucked the spoon, and there was substituted in her eyes for the aggressive blank, an amorous and inviting light, as he had expected.

Deliberately he had referred to the caned posterior, as if it were a bait the other way round in order to provoke the reaction in question. He looked at her curiously. For a moment he almost embarked upon a didactic account of the periodic nature of sexual desire in the animal kingdom. Instead he enquired, 'Why this sudden interest in daylight saving?'

'Rosemary . . .'

'Ah. I see. Just repeat what I said about calling five six. She is a bright child, you will not have to interpret.'

Essie laughed. 'Any more questions of that sort and I shall explain that I am dumb, and that she must wait until Gladys gets well. She has one of those enquiring minds. I think she is an awful little brat, between ourselves.'