3

I suppose it was very foolish, but all of us, Berry included, believed he was out of the wood.

It was nearly a month later, when April was ushering May, that, while we were having dinner, Berry clapped a hand to his mouth.

“What ever’s the matter?” said Daphne.

Berry regarded his wife.

“D’you really want to know?”

“Oh, dear. P’raps we’d better not,” she said.

“After all, why shouldn’t you thuffer? There you are. I’m lithping now.”

“But you never did that before.”

“I know. It’s delayed action. And there’s a dirty one. I’ve just paid Rodrigues’ account.”

“I know what it is,” said Jonah. “Your gums have shrunk.”

Berry regarded him defiantly.

“What d’you mean – thrunk…srunk…SHRUNK? There you are. Perfect enunciation all my life. Clear as a blasted bell. And now I’m starting to lithp.”

He covered his eyes.

“But what happened, darling?” said Jill.

“I was engaged in math – mastication – a very healthy pursuit. And the lower rank – the stalls – rose up, possibly out of zeal. Let us say they pursued their prey. But that’s very dithcontherting.”

“I expect it’s the spinach,” purred Daphne. “I mean, that is rather clinging.”

“That’s right,” said Jonah. “The suction of the spinach was stronger than the suction of your teeth. When the gums have finished shrinking, you’ll have to have a new set.”

“And till then?” screamed Berry.

Jonah glanced at the ceiling, before proceeding with his meal…

Rodrigues, when appealed to, explained that that was sometimes the way. He would make a new set with pleasure, but not for three months.

On receiving the unpalatable news, Berry looked dazedly round.

“Three months?” he cried. “D’you mean to tell me I’ve got to have thethe – these interlopers frolicking about my mouth for the next three monthth?”

Worse was to come.

Before the week was out, if Berry bit anything hard, beneath the pressure his teeth began to tilt.

When this had happened twice during luncheon, Berry laid down his napkin, rose to his feet, bowed to Daphne in silence and left the room.

We followed him, naturally.

“Darling, I’m terribly sorry: but it can’t be as bad as that.”

As he lighted a cigarette –

“It’s quite all right,” said Berry. “You go and finish your repast. I’m going to fast for a bit. You know, like Mothadecq. Probably do me good. If I get too weak, I can be artificially fed.”

“But, Berry darling,” cried Jill, “if you don’t eat you’ll get ill.”

“My sweet,” said Berry, “at present I can still drink and smoke. At times I can speak with coherence. For the present, those mercies must suffice. The consumption of food, once an agreeable pastime, has become a hideouth penance, to which I am no longer prepared to submit. My mouth becomes the scene of a painful and vulgar brawl, which my tongue is unable or reluctant to control. I’m inclined to think it’s reluctance. Its attitude is that of a servant who, having spent many years with the nobility, finds himself compelled to take service with nouveaux riches. His insolent contempt for their gaucheries has to be experienced to be believed. All that is going on in my mouth at every meal. In these circumstances, can anyone be surprised that I am, tho to thpeak, off my feed?”

Protracted consultations with Bridget produced a special diet – for Berry alone. Nourishing, no doubt, the dishes were distinguished by a dreadful similarity – so far as appearance went.

When we were served with roast duck, Berry was offered a casserole, containing a generous portion of beige-coloured slush.

Berry regarded it with starting eyes. Then he looked round.

“I thought you said the dog was well,” he said.

This was too much.

“You filthy brute,” shrieked Daphne. “Just because you can’t eat—”

“My mistake,” said Berry, helping himself. “But I’ve never eaten swamp before. I didn’t recognize it at first. Am I to have a milk-pudding afterwards? Just as la bonne bouche?”

We began to count the days…

On the whole, he was very long-suffering. To celebrate Jill’s birthday, he insisted on our visiting Lisbon and consuming at his expense as excellent a dinner as any connoisseur could devise. On mulligatawny soup, scrambled eggs and ice-pudding, he was the life of the party from first to last.

He went to see Rodrigues the following day.

A fortnight later, he saw Rodrigues again.

On his return to the quinta, he displayed a basket of fruit.

“I couldn’t resist it,” he explained. “You know that elegant shop in the Rua —. They do display their wares in a most attractive way.”

“It’s simply lovely,” said Daphne. “How very sweet of you, darling. Mafalda, ask Bridget to come.”

The bright-eyed maid went flying.

When the housekeeper appeared –

“Look at that, Bridget,” said Daphne.

“Oh, isn’t it lovely, madam. So perfectly arranged. I can make a fruit-salad for the Major.”

“Shame,” said Berry. “Such magnificent specimens must be done the honour of being eaten raw.”

“Oh, you must have some of it, sir.”

“I think you’re right,” said Berry.

With that, he picked up an apple and bit a piece out.

We stared upon him open-mouthed.

When he had bitten it up–

“As good as they look,” he said. “Have we got any almond-rock?”