If that old woman had come in a bit sooner, she'd have boxed the brazen thing's ears who made the oblivion, instead of poor Alfred's." She giggled as she scraped the loaf.

Even Miriam laughed in spite of herself.

Paul mended the fire ruefully.
The garden gate was heard to bang.
"Quick!" cried Beatrice, giving Paul the scraped loaf.

"Wrap it up in a damp towel." Paul disappeared into the scullery.

Beatrice hastily blew her scrapings into the fire, and sat down innocently.