The marmite scooted across the veranda with his little dirty feet, leaving a scuffle of black footprints on the clean yellow floorboards behind him. Dera trailed after, determined to have the marmite as a pet - she thought it would be ever so nice to keep him on her shoulder or in her pinny pocket. Unfortunately he did not wish to be mollycoddled in this manner and was attempting to convince her that he was really a little wild beast who could never be kept.
Moom serenely washed the veranda down and thought about Princess Marina's Wedding Cake.
"but you let the light in" she cried
"you are all sorts of lovely"
seapuppy nose whistling.