"Yes, it was a question of something a bit more serious than your auntie's finches or a grisette's canary..." He watches the cats eat, and tries to remember. Birds, birds, but they were talking birds, thinking birds, little thinking people.

Lesgle yawns hugely, and then "--Alcmaeon! Yours was Alcmaeon, wasn't it? He was just like you. Well--I know that doesn't sound flattering, but it is, he was a bright little fellow..."