"That suit does nothing for your ass," says Lucy with her usual lighthearted bluntness when she walks into the chamber as Peter is attempting to examine himself in the full-length mirror.

Across the room, Edmund is lounging with a bottle of wine and his feet up on the nearest table: "Watch it," he warns her, "that's Narnia's ass; it could look good in anything."

Peter pauses long enough to glare them all into silence before striding from the room; from the windowsill, where Caspian has been quietly observing the preparations, comes the appreciative remark, "That really is Narnia's ass."