“I suppose I ought to congratulate you,” he said. Suddenly, she heard the crunch of new feet on the gravel. This was an imitation of the noises made by the carnivora at the Zoological Gardens at feeding-time; the idea was taken up by prisoner after prisoner until the whole place was alive with barkings, yappings, roarings, pelican chatterings, and feline yowlings, interspersed with shrieks of hysterical laughter. ‘Doesn’t she, Gerald?’ Gerald held up his hands. He was now aided with a powerful implement, with which he soon contrived to make a hole in the wall. These things illuminated her situation extremely. He smiled tenderly. She pulled his shirt from its tucked belted state and snaked her hands around his waist. It was a bogus affair altogether, kept by some blackguard or other of an Englishman. Worse than any man.
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