At last it is evening. Time for dinner.
The saints have made baked potatoes.
The potatoes are in a large bowl on the table, tops pierced, letting the steam out.
Anyone for butter? asks Saint Méen.
Yes, please, says Belle.
Saint Maclou goes to the pantry.
Dash it! No butter.
Never mind, says Belle. I'm sure they'll be delicious.
No, says Saint Méen. I'll pop across to Madame Ponty's. She always has butter.
Tell Terence to come in, says Belle. He's still in the garden.
Saint Méen goes out through the garden.
Terence is nowhere in sight.
Saint Méen continues towards Madame Ponty's.
Her lights are on. He can see her through the window,
She is stirring some soup, and....what has she done with her hair?
Wait. That is not hair. It's a beanie.
He knocks on the door.
Madame Ponty opens it, holding a ladle.
A fishy smell wafts out.
I'm making fish stew, says Madame Ponty.
Very fancy, says Saint Méen.
Thought I'd treat myself, says Madame Ponty. But I've made far too much.
About that beanie you're wearing...? says Saint Méen.
Oh, yes! says Madame Ponty. Many thanks. I assume it's a thank you for Terence's lesson.
Err...would you mind giving it back? asks Saint Méen. We prefer not to let them out of the cellar.
Nonsense, says Madame Ponty. Terence's bird wore one, when he made the delivery.
This must be resolved, says Saint Méen. Meanwhile, may I borrow some butter?
Certainly, says Madame Ponty. Come in. In fact, why don't you ask your friends to come over, and help me consume this fish stew?
Very kind of you, says Saint Méen. We'll bring our baked potatoes.
What a feast we shall have, says Madame Ponty.
Her beanie buzzes.
Tch! tuts Saint Méen.
Madame Ponty turns on the radio.
La la lah!
Saint Méen makes his way back to the cottage, thinking hard.
How to recover that beanie?
He therefore fails to notice Terence's short cement legs, protruding from Madame Ponty's office window.
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