Mr Lilywhite's room was small. That wasn't surprising. What was surprising was how neat it was, how carefully the little bed had been made, how well the floor had been swept. It was hard to imagine anyone living in it, but there were a few signs. On the simple table by the bed was a small, rather crude portrait of a bulldog in a wig, although on closer inspection it might have been a woman. This tentative hypothesis was borne out by the inscription 'To a Good Boy, from his Mother' on the back.
A book lay next to it. Susan wondered what kind of reading someone with Mr Banjo's background would buy. It turned out to be a book of six pages, one of those that were supposed to enthrall children with the magic of the printed word by pointing out that they could See Spot Run. There were no more than ten words on each page and yet, carefully placed between pages four and five, was a bookmark. She turned back to the cover. The book was called Happy Tales . There was a blue sky and trees and a couple of impossibly pink children playing with a jolly looking dog. It looked as though it had been read frequently, if slowly.