Punch – the professor only used the honorific Mr when trying to seize the butterfly attention of excited children – woke up one morning and decided enough was enough. From his random dangling position it so happened that he was looking at – it could hardly be into – one of the glazed eyes of his unlawfully wedded. He didn’t know whether she was awake or not; he was only ever fairly confident that she was when she was on the other end of the tug of war with the baby and had already assumed the professor’s rather camp baritone. Punch sniffed the air and wondered if being upside down was making his sense of smell more acute.
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