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In which Miss Victotria Weeps for Joy

Our hero was not very experienced in the way of Crying Women. Indeed, Oh Best Beloved, he had once Married, only to find that his beloved wife Cried Every Night, for reasons he could never fathom; and so it had been a Brief Marriage. So he did not know how to talk to Miss Victoria, for she would not stop crying. For she wanted nothing in the world so much as her Pills of Joy, and Oliver could not give them to her, not if he wanted to have That Talk.

He was going to have to keep her Kidnpped a bit longer. And that meant he would have to Feed her. And she would only eat Coffee Yogurt.

Unfortunately, you could no longer buy any kind of Milk in Wellington Wells. All the Cows of Wellington Wells had been Eaten during the Lean Years. Still, such a thing as Powdered Milk existed. And where there was powdered milk, there would be Yogurt.

Oliver was neither a Cook nor a Chemist. But he was an expert Scrounger. He had found water in the Kalahari desert, and he had found a pineapple in a trek across the Highlands, and he had found a decent English pub in Antwerp. He had faith that, if he tried, he could find milk and coffee, and keep Miss Victoria Fed.

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