"What's the good of asking me that now ?" "I was just wondering," said Constantia mildly.
Silence again.

There came a little rustle, a scurry, a hop.
"A mouse," said Constantia.
"It can't be a mouse because there aren't any crumbs," said Josephine.
"But it doesn't know there aren't," said Constantia.
A spasm of pity squeezed her heart.

Poor little thing! She wished she'd left a tiny piece of biscuit on the dressing-table.

It was awful to think of it not finding anything.

What would it do?
"I can't think how they manage to live at all," she said slowly.
"Who ?" demanded Josephine.
And Constantia said more loudly than she meant to, "Mice." Josephine was furious.