She (quickly). Did the police have a tuncheon?
I. Yes, he did.
She. Shall I be the police?
I (cautiously, because a "tuncheon" necessitates making a long paper roll out of "The Times"). I am afraid the telephone had broken down, so the police didn't hear. How I wish the Fairy Bluebell was about!
She. And so the Fairy Bluebell came and cut off the dragon's head and gave it to you.
[Fetches a fourth large cushion and adds it to the pile.
I. But why should I have the dragon's head?
She (enigmatically). You had to have it.
[The poor old man resigns himself to his increasingly glutinous fate.
She (fetching a waste-paper basket and returning to the sofa). Limpetty, limpetty, limpetty.