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identical to your niece …’
    â€˜Mr Colin is making a grave mistake in thinking so much about my niece, sir,’ said Nicholas, ‘since from the accounts of recent events it would appear that Mr Chick has chosen her first.’
    â€˜Oh, but Nicholas,’ said Colin, ‘I do so much want to be in love …’
    A puff of steam sprang out of the spout of the kettle and Nicholas went to open the door. The caretaker had brought up two letters.
    â€˜Is there some mail?’ said Colin.
    â€˜I’m sorry, sir,’ said Nicholas, ‘but they’re both for me. Is Mr Colin expecting a letter?’
    â€˜I wish a pretty girl would write to me,’ said Colin. ‘That’s all I was hoping for.’
    â€˜It’s lunchtime,’ concluded Nicholas. ‘Would Mr Colin like his breakfast now? There’s minced oxtail, a bowl of spiced punch, and anchovy butter on toast.’
    â€˜Nicholas, why won’t Chick bring your niece home here to lunch unless I invite another girl too?’
    â€˜Mr Colin must forgive me, sir,’ said Nicholas, ‘but under the circumstances, I would do exactly the same. Mr Colin is a very good-looking fellow …’
    â€˜Nicholas,’ said Colin, ‘if I’m not in love by this evening – really and truly in love – then I’ll start a collection of the works of the Marchioness Thighbone de Mauvoir … and see if some of my friend Chick’s luck rubs off on me!’

10
    â€˜I wish I were in love,’ said Colin. ‘The butcher-boy wishes he were in love. And the baker-boy wishes exactly ditto (i.e. that he were in love). The candlestick-maker’s-boy and everybody in the street wishes and wishes that I were and they were and you were and we were and that the whole wide world were too. And even those that are left wish that they could fall in love as well …’
    He was tying his tie in front of the bathroom mirror. ‘All I have to do now is put on my jacket, my overcoat and my scarf, then my right glove followed by my left glove. But I won’t have to put on my hat because I don’t want to spoil my hair. Hey, what are you doing there?’
    He made this last remark to the little grey mouse with the black whiskers who was certainly far from home, nonchalantly leaning on its elbows over the rim of the tooth-glass.
    â€˜Just suppose,’ he said, sitting on the edge of the bath (rectangular, and made of yellow vitreous enamel) in order to get closer to the mouse, ‘that I should meet my old friend Whatsisname at the High-Pottinuice’s …!’
    The mouse nodded understandingly.
    â€˜And suppose … Well, why not? … that he should have a pretty little cousin … dressed in a white tee-shirt, with a yellow skirt … and that her name was Aly … Baba …’
    The mouse uncrossed its paws and looked shocked.
    â€˜It’s not a very pretty name for a girl, I know,’ said Colin. ‘But then you’re a sweet little mouse – and yet you’ve got black whiskers. So …?’
    He stood up.
    â€˜It’s three o’clock already! Look, you’re making me late. Chick and … I mean Chick is bound to get there very early.’
    He wetted his finger and held it up over his head, then brought it down again very smartly. It was burnt as severely as if he had put it in the fire.
    â€˜There’s love in the air,’ he decided. ‘It’s boiling! I stand up, the butcher-boy stands up, the baker-boy stands up. And with the candlestick-maker’s-boy we all stand up, stand up, stand up. Do you want to be helped out of the glass?’
    The mouse proved that it needed help from nobody by scrambling out on its own and nibbling off a lolly-shaped piece of soap for itself.
    â€˜Don’t make a mess over everything with that,’ said Colin. ‘You’re disgustingly greedy.’
    He went out of the