Gruntle fluffed his wings and puffed out his chest and prepared to intimidate this new flat-faced foe into surrender.
“Isn’t he the cutest little thing?” gushed Lady Bophus. “So delicate!”
Between Gruntle, Susan, Lambert and Lady Bophus herself, the only thing that could be termed “delicate” was the Lady’s sensibilities, and so Susan once again found herself talking too loudly at length about the rhododendrons, to cover yet another bird’s shrill curses.