She said this very discreetly, so as not to hurt Mrs Rumbold’s feelings, for she trained the choir. Everyone knew that the king was Mr Rumbold, and said “Charming” to each other, after he had sung.
“I liked that boy’s voice, too,” said Mrs Weston. “Tommy Luton used to have a lovely voice, but this one’s struck me as better-trained even than Tommy Luton’s. Great credit to you, Mrs Rumbold.”
The grey hungry mouse suddenly gave a shrill cackle of a laugh, quite inexplicable. Then Georgie guessed.
He got up.
“Now nobody must move,” he said, “because we haven’t drunk ‘absent friends’ yet. I’m just going out to see that they have a bit of supper in the kitchen before they go on.”
His trembling legs would scarcely carry him to the door, and he ran out. There were half a dozen little choir boys, four men and one tall cloaked woman....
“Divine!” he said to Olga. “Aunt Jane thought your voice very well trained. Come in soon, won’t you?”
“Yes: all flourishing?”
“Swimming,” said Georgie. “Lucia hoped your voice would crack soon. But it’s all being lovely.”
He explained about food in the kitchen and hurried back to his guests. There was the riddle of the Quantocks to solve: there were the tableaux vivants imminent: there was the little red-haired boy coming in soon. What a Christmas night!
