“I don’t see why you want to undress me in the middle of the morning,” he said, wriggling out of his blue jersey. “And it isn’t washing-day, either, and Alison and Michael’ll go and sink the Ark without me if you don’t hurry.”
“I won’t let them, Geoff,” Norah reassured him. “I’m an airship commander cruising round over the submarine, and she doesn’t dare to show so much as the tip of her periscope. Of course, when her captain comes back, he’ll know what to do!”
“Rather!” said the Captain, wriggling this time in ecstasy. “I’ll just put up my anti-aircraft gun and blow the old airship to smithereens.”
Alison uttered a howl.
“Won’t have Norah made into smivvereens!”
“Don’t you worry darling, I’ll dodge,” said Norah.
“Michael, what are you doing with Mrs. Noah?”
“Not want my dear ’ickle Mrs. Noah dwowned,” said Michael, concealing the lady yet more securely in his tiny pocket. “She good. Michael loves her.”
“Oh, rubbish, Michael! put her back in the Ark,” said Geoffrey wrathfully. “However can we have a proper submarining if you go and collar half the things?”
“Never collared nuffig,” said Michael, unmoved. “Only tooked my dear ’ickle Mrs. Noah.”