Laps are good. Ahhhh. One chin on tom, one length on jane. This is the life.

Hm? What did you say?

Oh, not to me.

Nice breath. Touch of residue of tuna. None left I don’t suppose.

You seem, dear jane, to be making sounds at roughly the same intervals as the box and vocalizing simililar sounds but at pitches on either sides of the ones from there.