Round about, the couple's bereavement had begun attracting attention. In the thickening dusk, tentacles paused from winnowing the sea for their owners' suppers, stalked heads turned curiously here and there in the colony. Not far away, a threesome of maiden aunts, rooted en brosse to a single substantial boulder, twittered condolences and watched Mater avidly.
"Discipline!" growled Pater. "That's what he needs! Just wait till I—"
"Now, dear—" began Mater shakily.
"Hi, folks!" piped Junior from overhead.
His parents swiveled as if on a single stalk. Their offspring was floating a few fathoms above them, paddling lazily against the ebb; plainly he had just swum from some crevice in the reef nearby. In one pair of dangling tentacles he absently hugged a roundish stone, worn sensuously smooth by pounding surf.
"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?"
"Nowhere," said Junior innocently. "Just playing hide-and-go-sink with the squids."