The candle spat with the moth's death, then burned with renewed brightness.
"Time the rogue went to sleep," said May authoritatively.
"Feel his hands," said Jenny. "They're like velvet bows."
"They are lovely and soft, aren't they?" May agreed.
"Won't the girls talk when they hear about my baby?"
"Rather," said May reassuringly.
"I expect they'll wonder if he's like me."
Remote winds muttered over the hill-side, and the curlews set up a chorus of chattering.
"Night's lovely with a baby," said Jenny, and very soon fell asleep.