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said Effie, ‘for the people in Hong Kong are very poor, aren’t they?’
    â€˜Those who made those dolls are very poor, certainly.’
    â€˜In Hong Kong do they sell Chinese dolls made in Scotland?’ asked Rowena.
    â€˜I wouldn’t think so.’
    â€˜Well, they should.’
    â€˜Why don’t the Chinese make their own dolls and the Scottish people make theirs?’ asked Jeanie.
    â€˜It’s a matter of international co-operation.’
    Papa smiled at his rueful reflection in the glass. He was used to having his utterances subjected to this ingenuous but rigorous examination. He took it very well, just as he did Diana’s beating him at chess, the twins trouncing him at draughts and Rowena and Rebecca being twice as fast at doing jigsaws.
    Beside his in the glass was Meg’s face, still as radiant as it had been that morning when she had told him she was sure she had conceived and the child was male. Her breasts, look, were triumphant.
    Her desire for a son had become an obsession. God knew what would happen to her if she did not get her wish. Those absences of mind weren’t indications of mental derangement, the psychiatrist had said. But what if one day she never returned?
    Meanwhile the girls were helping Rebecca to count her money. ‘I don’t think I’ve got enough,’ she said.
    â€˜Papa will make it up,’ said Effie.
    They all marched into the shop.
    The shopkeeper, a small thin woman with spectacles, peered at them suspiciously. She had reason to believe that children in groups, with or without their parents, were likely shoplifters. That they were all well dressed and spoke politely did not necessarily mean that they were honest. She had read in the newspaper of titled ladies being caught shoplifting.
    The youngest girl had to be lifted up to inspect the dolls set out on the counter.
    â€˜Where were they made?’ asked one who looked like a twin.
    â€˜In Scotland of course. These are genuine tartans.’
    They all burst out laughing as if she’d made a joke.
    â€˜You were wrong, Papa,’ cried the other twin.
    He should have cuffed her ear. Instead he grinned sheepishly.
    â€˜How much is this one, please?’ piped the youngest, whom they called Rebecca, a Jewish name surely.
    â€˜Three pounds fifty-five pence. This kilt is real silk.’
    She put what money she had on the counter. Her father made up the difference.
    The doll was put in a box.
    As they went out the shopkeeper, assuaged by her three hundred per cent profit, decided that they were what they appeared to be, a handsome, well-to-do, and highly respectable family.
    Out on the pavement Effie said: ‘Did you see her looking at us as if we were thieves?’
    â€˜You mustn’t say things like that, Effie,’ said Mama.
    Rowena took something from her pocket. It was a tiny white glass cat with green eyes.
    â€˜Where did you get that?’ asked Diana.
    â€˜I took it.’
    They were all shocked. They stopped.
    â€˜Rowena Sempill, you didn’t!’ cried Jeanie.
    â€˜I did.’
    Papa and Mama stared at each other, appalled. A serpent had crept into their Eden.
    â€˜Good heavens, Rowena,’ said Mama, ‘do you know what you are saying?’
    Rowena smiled. ‘When she wasn’t looking I took it.’
    â€˜But you had just to ask and I would have bought it for you,’ said Papa.
    â€˜She’ll have to take it back,’ said Effie.
    Rowena looked pleased at this suggestion.
    At any moment, thought Papa, the shopkeeper and a policeman would come running towards them. The cat couldn’t cost more than two pounds. He’d offer twenty to have the matter hushed up. Poor Rowena after all was only seven. She would have to be taken to a child psychologist.
    â€˜Say you took it by mistake,’ said Jeanie.
    Rowena shook her head. ‘I wanted to take it.’
    â€˜Good God,’ muttered Papa, as if