Black As He Is Painted

Coda

On a very warm morning in mid-summer, Lucy Lockett, wearing the ornamental collar in which she seemed to fancy herself, sat on the front steps of No. 1, Capricorn Walk, contemplating the scene and keeping an ear open on proceedings in the basement flat.

Mr. Whipplestone had found a suitable tenant and the Chubbs were turning out the premises. A vacuum cleaner whined, there were sundry bumps. The windows were open and voices were heard.

Mr. Whipplestone had gone to the Napoli to buy his Camembert, and Lucy, who never accompanied him into the Mews, awaited his return.

The cleaner was switched off. The Chubbs interchanged peaceful remarks and Lucy, suddenly moved by the legendary curiosity of her species and sex, leapt neatly into the garden and thence through the basement window.

The chattels of the late tenant had been removed but a certain amount of litter still obtained. Lucy pretended to kill a crumpled sheet of newspaper and then fossicked about in odd corners. The Chubbs paid little attention to her.

When Mr. Whipplestone returned he found his cat on the top step, couchant, with something between her forepaws. She gazed up at him and made one of her fetching little remarks.

“What have you got there?” he asked. He inserted his eyeglass and bent down to see.

It was a white pottery fish.

The End