“I’ll be Jael,” said Frid, “and Henry can be Sisera and the twins guards and Robin a faithful slave.”
“What am I?” demanded Patch, putting on Lord Wutherwood’s bowler.
“Another faithful slave. Wait a moment.”
Frid ran down the passage towards the kitchen. Roberta could hear her shouting: “A skewer, Baskett, a skewer! We’re doing a charade. Quick!”
“Did Jael make love to Sisera,” asked Colin, “before he slew her?”
“Jael’s the female,” said Stephen.
“Oh. Give me that ghastly scarf, will you. Is it Uncle G.’s?”
“Yes. I want it for a loin cloth.”
“I’m going to be a Circassian slave,” said Patch.
“This is most frightfully bogus,” said Henry, taking two yachting caps out of the wardrobe. “I can’t tell you how much I object to cavorting in front of these repellent people. You could use yachting caps as breast-plates, Robin. There’s some string.”