She (decisively). Nurse has hair.
[This really seems unanswerable. Having amended Phœbus Apollo I start in with my marmalade. After a lapse of a few minutes a low hammering is heard from somewhere on the floor at the far side of the table.]
I. Whatever are you doing, Priscilla?
She. Sooing my horse.
[She is discovered beating the wheels of a grey wooden flat-backed animal on a stand with a hammer procured from heaven alone knows where.]
I. Well, don't hit him on the wheels, anyhow. (A pause, subdued noises and a sigh.) What are you doing now, Priscilla?
She. Sooing him on his back.
I. Doesn't that hurt him?
She. It hurts him very much, but he doesn't say anything.
[I come round to give veterinary advice.]