For one thing, it was coal-black.

“It must be a hybrid,” said Jack. “There is a black parrot; I’ve seen them in zoos. They didn’t look much like this, though. I’ve half a mind to send a photograph of him somewhere.”

“He looks so wicked,” said Edna.

“He looks cunning,” said Jack. “That bird knows everything, believe me. I bet he’ll talk soon.”

“It gave a sort of laugh,” said Edna. “I forgot to tell you.”

“When?” cried Jack. “A laugh?”

“Sort of,” said Edna. “But it was horrible. It made Charlie nearly jump out of his skin.”

“Charlie?” said Jack. “You didn’t say he’d been here.”

“Well, you know how often he drops in,” said Edna.

“Do I?” said Jack. “I hope I do. God! What was that?”

“That’s what I meant,” said Edna. “A sort of laugh.”

“What a horrible sound!” said Jack.

“Listen, Jack,” said Edna. “I wish you wouldn’t be silly about Charlie. You are, you know.”

Jack looked at her. “I know I am,” said he. “I know it when I look at you. And then I think I never will be again. But somehow it’s got stuck in my mind, and the least little thing brings it on. Maybe I’m just a bit crazy, on that one subject.”

“Well, he’ll be transferred soon,” said Edna. “And that’ll be the end of it.”

“Where did you hear that?” said Jack.

“He told me this afternoon,” said Edna. “He was on his way back from getting the mail when he dropped in. That’s why he told me first. Otherwise he’d have told you first.