THE NEW YORKER DECEMBER 8, 1951

Taste
by
Roald Dahl
THERE WERE SIX OF us to dinner that to take a grave, restrained pleasure in
night at Mike Schofield's house in London: displaying his knowledge.
Mike and his wife and daughter, my wife The meal began with a plate of whitebait,
and I, and a man called Richard Pratt. fried very crisp in butter, and to go with it
Richard Pratt was a famous gourmet. He there was a Moselle. Mike got up and
was president of a small society known as poured the wine himself, and when he sat
the Epicures, and each month he down again, I could see that he was
circulated privately to its members a watching Richard Pratt. He had set the
pamphlet on food and wines. He organised bottle in front of me so that I could read
dinners where sumptuous dishes and rare the label. It said, 'Geierslay Ohligsberg,
wines were served. He refused to smoke for 1945'. He leaned over and whispered to me
fear of harming his palate, and when that Geierslay was a tiny village in the
discussing a wine, he had a curious, rather Moselle, almost unknown outside
droll habit of referring to it as though it Germany. He said that this wine we were
were a living being. drinking was something unusual, that the
'A prudent wine,' he would say, 'rather output of the vineyard was so small that it
diffident and evasive, but quite prudent.' was almost impossible for a stranger to get
Or, ‘A good-humoured wine, benevolent any of it. He had visited Geierslay
and cheerful - slightly obscene, perhaps, personally the previous summer in order to
but none the less good-humoured.' I had obtain the few dozen bottles that they had
been to dinner at Mike's twice before when finally allowed him to have.
Richard Pratt was there, and on each 'I doubt whether anyone else in the
occasion Mike and his wife had gone out of country has any of it at the moment,' he
their way to produce a special meal for the said. I saw him glance again at Richard
famous gourmet. And this one, clearly, was Pratt.
to be no exception. The moment we entered 'Great thing about Moselle,' he continued,
the dining-room, I could see that the table raising his voice, 'it's the perfect wine to
was laid for a feast. The tall candles, the serve before a claret. A lot of people serve a
yellow roses, the quantity of shining silver, Rhine wine instead, but that's because
the three wineglasses to each person, and they don't know any better. A Rhine wine
above all, the faint scent of roasting meat will kill a delicate claret, you know that?
from the kitchen brought the first warm It's barbaric to serve a Rhine before a
oozings of saliva to my mouth. claret. But a Moselle- ah! - a Moselle is
As we sat down, I remembered that on exactly light.' Mike Schofield was an
both Richard Pratt's previous visits Mike amiable, middle-aged man. But he was a
had played a little betting game with him stockbroker. To be precise, he was a jobber
over the claret, challenging him to name its in the stock market, and like a number of
breed and its vintage. Pratt had replied his kind, he seemed to be somewhat
that that should not be too difficult embarrassed, almost ashamed to find that
provided it was one of the great years. Mike he had made so much money with so slight
had then bet him a case of the wine in a talent. In his heart he knew that he was
question that he could not do it. Pratt had not really much more than a bookmaker -
accepted, and had won both times. Tonight an unctuous, infinitely respectable,
I felt sure that the little game would be secretly unscrupulous bookmaker - and he
played over again, for Mike was quite knew that his friends knew it, too. So he
willing to lose the bet in order to prove that was seeking now to become a man of
his wine was good enough to be culture, to cultivate a literary and aesthetic
recognised, and Pratt, for his part, seemed taste, to collect paintings, music, books,
and all the rest of it. His little sermon
about Rhine wine and Moselle was a part claret. I must go and fetch the claret. if
of this thing, this culture that he sought. you'll excuse me.' 'You go and fetch it,
'A charming little wine, don't you think?' Mike?' I said. 'Where is it?' 'In my study,
he said. He was still watching Richard with the cork out- breathing.' 'Why the
Pratt. I could see him give a rapid furtive study? ‘Acquiring room temperature, of
glance down the table each time he course, It's been there twenty-four hours.'
dropped his head to take a mouthful of 'But why the study?' 'It's the best place in
whitebait. I could almost feel him waiting the house. Richard helped me choose it
for the moment when Pratt would take his last time he was here.' At the sound of his
first sip, and look up from his glass with a name, Pratt looked round. 'That's right,
smile of pleasure, of astonishment, isn't it?' Mike said, 'Yes,' Pratt answered,
perhaps even of wonder, and then there nodding gravely, 'That's right.' 'On top of
would be a discussion and Mike would tell the green filing cabinet in my study " Mike
him about the village of Geierslay. said: 'That's the place we chose. A good
But Richard Pratt did not taste his wine. draught-free spot in a room with an even
He was completely engrossed in temperature. Excuse me now, will you,
conversation with Mike's eighteen-year-old while I fetch it.' The thought of another
daughter, Louise. He was half turned wine to play with had restored his humour,
towards her, smiling at her, telling her, so and he hurried out of the door, to return a
far as I could gather, some story about a minute later more slowly, walking softly,
chef in a Paris restaurant. As he spoke, he holding in both hands a wine basket in
leaned closer and closer to her, seeming in which a dark bottle lay. The label was out
his eagerness almost to impinge upon her, of sight, facing downwards. 'Now!' he cried
and the poor girl leaned as far as she could as he came towards the table. 'What about
away from him, nodding politely, rather this one, Richard? You'll never name this
desperately, and looking not at his face but one!' Richard Pratt turned slowly and
at the topmost button of his dinner jacket. looked up at Mike, then his eyes travelled
We finished our fish, and the maid came down to the bottle nestling in its small
round removing the plates. When she came wicker basket, and he raised his eyebrows,
to Pratt, she saw that he had not yet a slight, supercilious arching of the brows,
touched his food, so she hesitated, and and with it a pushing outward of the wet
Pratt noticed her. He waved her away, lower lip, suddenly imperious and ugly.
broke off his conversation, and quickly 'You'll never get it,' Mike said. 'Not in a
began to eat, popping the little crisp brown hundred years.' ‘A claret? ' Richard Pratt
fish quickly into his mouth with rapid asked, condescending, ‘Of course.' 'I
jabbing movements of his fork. Then, when assume, then, that it's from one of the
he had finished, he reached for his glass, smaller vineyards?' .Maybe it is, Richard.
and in two short swallows he tipped the And then again, maybe it isn't,' 'But it's a
wine down his throat and turned good year? One of the great years?' ‘Yes, I
immediately to resume his conversation guarantee that.' ‘Then it shouldn't be too
with Louise Schofield. Mike saw it all. I difficult,' Richard Pratt said, drawling his
was conscious of him sitting there, very words, looking exceedingly bored. Except
still, containing himself, looking at his that, to me, there was something strange
guest. His round jovial face seemed to about his drawling and his boredom
loosen slightly and to sag, but he between the eyes a shadow of something
contained himself and was still and said evil, and in his bearing an intentness that
nothing. gave me a faint sense of uneasiness as I
Soon the maid came forward with the watched him.
second course. This was a large roast of 'This one is really rather difficult,' Mike
beef. She placed it on the table in front of said. 'I won't force you to bet on this one.'
Mike who stood up and carved it, cutting 'Indeed. And why not?' Again the slow
the slices very thin, laying them gently on arching of the brows, the cool, intent look.
the plates for the maid to take around. 'Because it’s difficult.' 'That's not very
When he had served everyone, including complimentary to me, you know.' 'My dear
himself, he put down the carving knife and man,' Mike said. 'I'll bet you with pleasure,
leaned forward with both hands on the if that's what you wish.' 'It shouldn’t be too
edge of the table. hard to name it.' 'You mean you want to
'Now,' he said, speaking to all of us but bet?' 'I'm perfectly willing to bet,' Richard
looking at Richard Pratt. 'Now for the Pratt said.

2
‘All right, then, we'll have the usual. A case background holding a dish of vegetables,
of the wine itself.' ‘You don't think I'll be wondering whether to come forward with
able to name it, do you.' 'As a matter of them or not.
fact, and with all due respect, I don't,' Mike ‘All right, then,’ Pratt said, 'I'll tell you what
said. He was making some effort to remain I want you to bet.' 'Come on, then’, Mike
polite, but Pratt was not bothering said, rather reckless. 'I don't give a damn
overmuch to conceal his contempt for the what it is - you're on.' Pratt nodded, and
whole proceeding. And yet, curiously, his again the little smile moved the corners of
next question seemed to betray a certain his lips, and then, quite slowly, looking at
interest. Mike all the time, he said, 'I want you to
‘You like to increase the bet?' 'No, Richard. bet me the hand of your daughter in
A case is plenty.' 'Would you like to bet fifty marriage.' Louise Schofield gave a jump.
cases?' 'That would be silly.' Mike stood 'Hey!' she cried. 'No! That's not funny! Look
very still behind his chair at the head of here, Daddy, that's not funny at all.' 'No,
the table, carefully holding the bottle in its dear,’ her mother said. 'They're only
ridiculous wicker basket. There was a trace joking.' 'I'm not joking,' Richard Pratt said.
of whiteness around his nostrils now, and ‘It's ridiculous,' Mike said. He was off
his mouth was shut very tight. balance again now.
Pratt was lolling back in his chair, looking ‘You said you'd bet anything I liked.' ‘I
up at him, the eyebrows raised, the eyes meant money.' ‘You didn't say money.'
half closed, a little smile touching the 'That's what I meant.' 'Then it's a pity you
corners of his lips. And again I saw, or didn't say it. But anyway, if you wish to go
thought I saw, something distinctly back on your offer, that's quite all right
disturbing about the man's face, that with me.' ‘It's not a question of going back
shadow of intentness between the eyes, on my offer, old man. It's a no-bet anyway,
and in the eyes themselves, right in their because you can't match the stake. You
centres where it was black, a small slow yourself don't happen to have a daughter
spark of shrewdness, hiding. to put up against mine in case you lose.
'So you don't want to increase the bet?' ‘As And if you had, I wouldn't want to marry
far as I'm concerned, old man, I don't give her.' ‘I'm glad of that, dear " his wife said.
a damn. I'll put up anything you like,' Pratt
Mike said, 'I'll bet you anything you like.' announced. ‘My house, for example. How
The three women and I sat quietly, about my house?' ‘Which one?' Mike
watching the two men. asked, joking now. ‘The country one.' 'Why
Mike's wife was becoming annoyed; her not the other one as well?' ‘All right then, if
mouth had gone sour and I felt that at any you wish it. Both my houses.' At that point
moment she was going to interrupt. Our I saw Mike pause. He took a step forward
roast beef lay before us on our plates, and placed the bottle in its basket gently
slowly steaming. down on the table. He moved the salt-cellar
'So you'll bet me anything I like?' 'That's to one side, then the pepper, and then he
what I told you. I'll bet you anything you picked up his knife, studied the blade
damn well please, if you want to make an thoughtfully for a moment, and put it
issue out of it.' 'Even ten thousand down again. His daughter, too, had seen
pounds?' 'Certainly I will, if that's the way him pause.
you want it.' Mike was more confident now. ‘Now, Daddy!' she cried. ‘Don't be absurd!
He knew quite well that he could call any It's too silly for words. I refuse to be betted
sum Pratt cared to mention. on like this.' ‘Quite right, dear’, her mother
'So you say I can name the bet?' Pratt said. ‘Stop it at once, Mike, and sit down
asked again. and eat your food.' Mike ignored her. He
'That's what I said.' There was a pause looked over at his daughter and he smiled,
while Pratt looked slowly around the table, a slow, fatherly, protective smile. But in his
first at me, then at the three women, each eyes, suddenly, there glimmered a little
in turn. He appeared to be reminding us triumph. ‘You know,' he said, smiling as he
that we were witness to the offer. spoke. ‘You know, Louise, we ought to
'Mike!' Mrs Schofield said. 'Mike, why don't think about this a bit.' ‘Now, stop it,
we stop this nonsense and eat our food. Daddy! I refuse even to listen to you! Why,
It's getting cold.' 'But it isn't nonsense,’ I've never heard anything so ridiculous in
Pratt told her evenly. 'We're making a little my life!' ‘No, seriously, my dear. Just wait
bet.' I noticed the maid standing in the a moment and hear what I have to say.'

3
‘But I don't want to hear it.' ‘Louise! Please! the daughter to resist him, 'But what if I
It's like this. Richard, here, has offered us lose?' 'I keep telling you, you can't lose. I'll
a serious bet. He is the one who wants to guarantee it.' 'Oh, Daddy, must I?' 'I'm
make it, not me. And if he loses, he will making you a fortune. So come on now.
have to hand over a considerable amount What do you say, Louise? All right?' For
of property.’ ‘Now, wait a minute, my dear, the last time, she hesitated. Then she gave
don't interrupt. The point is this. He a helpless little shrug of the shoulders and
cannot possibly win.' ‘He seems to think he said, 'Oh, all right, then. Just so long as
can.' ‘Now listen to me, because I know you swear there's no danger of losing.'
what I'm talking about. 'Good! ' Mike cried. 'That's fine! Then it's a
The expert, when tasting a claret - so long bet! , 'Yes,' Richard Pratt said, looking at
as it is not one of the famous great wines the girl. 'It's a bet.' Immediately, Mike
like Lafite or Latour - can only get a certain picked up the wine, tipped the first
way towards naming the vineyard. He can, thimbleful into his own glass, then skipped
of course, tell you the Bordeaux district excitedly around the table filling up the
from which the wine comes, whether it is others. Now everyone was watching
from St Emilion, Pomerol, Graves, or Richard Pratt, watching his face as he
Médoc. reached slowly for his glass with his right
But then each district has several hand and lifted it to his nose. The man was
communes, little counties, and each about fifty years old and he did not have a
county has many, many small vineyards. It pleasant face.
is impossible for a man to differentiate Somehow, it was all mouth - mouth and
between them all by taste and smell alone. lips - the full, wet lips of the professional
I don't mind telling you that this one I've gourmet, the lower lip hanging downward
got here is a wine from a small vineyard in the centre, a pendulous, permanently
that is surrounded by many other small open taster's lip, shaped open to receive
vineyards, and he'll never get it. It's the rim of a glass or a morsel of food. Like
impossible.' ‘You can't be sure of that,' his a keyhole, I thought, watching it, his
daughter said. mouth is like a large wet keyhole.
'I'm telling you I can. Though I say it Slowly he lifted the glass to his nose. The
myself, I understand quite a bit about this point of the nose entered the glass and
wine business, you know. And anyway, moved over the surface of the wine,
heavens alive, girl, I'm your father and you delicately sniffing. He swirled the wine
don't think I'd let you in for - for something gently around in the glass to receive the
you didn't want, do you? I'm trying to bouquet. His concentration was intense.
make you some money.' 'Mike!' his wife He had closed his eyes, and now the whole
said sharply. 'Stop it now, Mike, please!' top half of his body, the head and neck
Again he ignored her. 'If you will take this and chest, seemed to become a kind of
bet,' he said to his daughter, 'in ten huge sensitive smelling-machine, receiving,
minutes you will be the owner of two large filtering, analysing the message from the
houses.' 'But I don't want two large sniffing nose.
houses, Daddy.' 'Then sell them. Sell them Mike, I noticed, was lounging in his chair,
back to him on the spot. I'll arrange all apparently unconcerned, but he was
that for you. And then, just think of it, my watching every move. Mrs Schofield, the
dear, you'll be rich! You'll be independent wife, sat prim and upright at the other end
for the rest of your life!' 'Oh, Daddy, I don't of the table, looking straight ahead, her
like it. I think it's silly.' 'So do I,' the face tight with disapproval. The daughter,
mother said. She jerked her head briskly Louise, had shifted her chair away a little,
up and down as she spoke, like a hen. 'You and sidewise, facing the gourmet, and she,
ought to be ashamed of yourself, Michael, like her father, was watching closely.
ever suggesting such a thing! Your own For at least a minute, the smelling process
daughter, too!' continued, then, without opening his eyes
Mike didn't even look at her. 'Take it!' he or moving his head, Pratt lowered the glass
said eagerly, staring hard at the girl. 'Take to his mouth and tipped in almost half the
it, quick! I'll guarantee you won't lose.' 'But contents.
I don't like it, Daddy,' 'Come on, girl. Take He paused, his mouth full of wine, getting
it!' Mike was pushing her hard. He was the first taste, then, he permitted some of
leaning towards her, fixing her with two it to trickle down his throat and I saw his
hard bright eyes, and it was not easy for Adam's apple move as it passed by. But

4
most of it he retained in his mouth. And Unmistakably this is a St Julien.' He
now, without swallowing again, he drew in leaned back in his chair, held his hands
through his lips a thin breath of air which up level with his chest, and placed the
mingled with the fumes of the wine in the fingertips carefully together. He was
mouth and passed on down into his lungs. becoming ridiculously pompous, but I
He held the breath, blew it out through his thought that some of it was deliberate,
nose, and finally began to roll the wine simply to mock his host. I found myself
around under the tongue, and chewed it, waiting rather tensely for him to go on. The
actually chewed it with his teeth as though girl Louise was lighting a cigarette. Pratt
it were bread. heard the match strike and he turned on
It was a solemn, impressive performance, her, flaring suddenly with real anger.
and I must say he did it well. 'Please!' he said. 'Please don't do that! It's a
'Um,' he said, putting down the glass, disgusting habit, to smoke at table!' She
running a pink tongue over his lips. 'Um - looked up at him, still holding the burning
yes. A very interesting little wine - gentle match in one hand, the big slow eyes
and gracious, almost feminine in the after- settling on his face, resting there a
taste.' There was an excess of saliva in his moment, moving away again, slow and
mouth, and as he spoke he spat an contemptuous. She bent her head and
occasional bright speck of it on to the blew out the match, but continued to hold
table. 'Now we can start to eliminate,' he the unlighted cigarette in her fingers.
said. 'You will pardon me for doing this 'I'm sorry, my dear,' Pratt said, 'but I
carefully, but there is much at stake. simply cannot have smoking at table.' She
Normally I would perhaps take a bit of a didn't look at him again.
chance, leaping forward quickly and 'Now, let me see - where were we?' he said.
landing right in the middle of the vineyard 'Ah, yes. This wine is from Bordeaux, from
of my choice. But this time - I must move the commune of St Julien, in the district of
cautiously this time, must I not?' He Médoc. So far, so good. But now we come
looked up at Mike and he smiled, a thick to the more difficult part - the name of the
lipped, wet-lipped smile. Mike did not smile vineyard itself. For in St Julien there are
back. many vineyards, and as our host so rightly
'First, then, which district in Bordeaux remarked earlier on, there is often not
does this wine come from? That's not too much difference
difficult to guess. It is far too light in the between the wine of one and the wine of
body to be from either St Emilion or another. But we shall see.' He paused
Graves. It is obviously a Médoc. There's no again, closing his eyes. 'I am trying to
doubt about that. establish the “growth",' he said. 'If I can do
'Now - from which commune in Médoc does that, it will be half the battle. Now, let me
it come? That also, by elimination, should see. This wine is obviously not from a first
not be too difficult to decide. growth vineyard - nor even a second. It is
Margaux? No. It cannot be Margaux. It has not a great wine! The quality, the- the -
not the violent bouquet of a Margaux. what do you call it? - the radiance, the
Pauillac? It cannot be Pauillac, either. power, is lacking. But a third growth - that
It is too tender, too gentle and wistful for it could be; And yet I doubt it. We know it
Pauillac. The wine of Pauillac has a is a good year - our host has said so - and
character that is almost imperious in its this is probably flattering it a little bit. I
taste, And also, to me, a Pauillac contains must be careful. I must be very careful
just a little pith, a curious dusty, pithy here.' He picked up his glass and took
flavour that the grape acquires from the another small sip. 'Yes,' he said, sucking
soil of the district. No, no. This - this is a his lips, 'I was right. It is a fourth growth.
very gentle wine, demure and bashful in Now I am sure of it. A fourth growth from a
the first taste, emerging shyly but quite very good year - from a great year, in fact.
graciously in the second. A little arch, And that's what made it taste for a
perhaps, in the second taste, and a little moment like a third - or even a second-
naughty also, teasing the tongue with a growth wine. Good! That's better! Now we
trace, just a trace of tannin. Then, in the are closing in! What are the fourth-growth
after-taste, delightful consoling and vineyards in the commune of St Julien?'
feminine, with a certain blithely generous Again he paused, took up his glass, and
quality that one associates only with the held the rim against that sagging,
wines of the commune of St Julien. pendulous lower lip of his. Then I saw the

5
tongue shoot out, pink and narrow, the tip 'Turn it round and let's have a peek. I want
of it dipping into the wine, withdrawing my two houses.' 'Just a minute,' Mike said.
swiftly again - a repulsive sight. When he 'Wait just a minute.' He was sitting very
lowered the glass, his eyes remained quiet, bewildered-looking, and his face was
closed, the face concentrated, only the lips becoming puffy and pale, as though all the
moving, sliding over each other like two force was draining slowly out of him.
pieces of wet, spongy rubber. 'Michael' his wife called sharply from the
'There it is again! ' he cried. 'Tannin in the other end of the table. 'What's the matter?
middle taste, and the quick astringent 'Keep out of this, Margaret, will you
squeeze upon the tongue. Yes, yes, of please.' Richard Pratt was looking at Mike,
course! Now I have it! The wine comes from smiling with his mouth, his eyes small and
one of those small vineyards around bright. Mike was not looking at anyone.
Beychevelle. I remember now. The 'Daddy!' the daughter cried, agonised. 'But,
Beychevelle district, and the river and the Daddy, you don't mean to say he's guessed
little harbour that has silted up so the wine it right! , 'Now, stop worrying, my dear,'
ships can no longer use it. Beychevelle . . . . Mike said. 'There's nothing to worry about.'
could it actually be a Beychevelle itself? No, I think it was more to get away from his
I don't think so. Not quite. But it is family than anything else that Mike then
somewhere very close. Château Talbot? turned to Richard Pratt and said, 'I’ll tell
Could it be Talbot? Yes, it could. Wait one you what, Richard. I think you and I better
moment.' He sipped the wine again, and slip off into the next room and have a little
out of the side of my eye I noticed Mike chat.' 'I don't want a little chat,' Pratt said.
Schofield and how he was leaning farther ' All I want is to see the label on that
and farther forward over the table, his bottle.' He knew he was a winner now; he
mouth slightly open, his small eyes fixed had the bearing, the quiet arrogance of a
upon Richard Pratt. 'No. I was wrong. It is winner, and I could see that he was
not a Talbot. A Talbot comes forward to prepared to become thoroughly nasty if
you just a little quicker than this one; the there was any trouble. 'What are you
fruit is nearer the surface. So it is a '34, waiting for? ' he said to Mike, 'Go on and
which I believe it is, then it couldn't be turn it round.' Then this happened: the
Talbot. We, we. Let me think. It is not a maid, the tiny, erect figure of the maid in
Beychevelle and it is not a Talbot, and yet - her white-and-black uniform, was standing
yet it is so close to both of them, so close, beside Richard Pratt, holding something
that the vineyard must be almost in out in her hand. 'I believe these are yours,
between. Now, which could that be?' He sir,' she said.
hesitated, and we waited, watching his Pratt glanced around, saw the pair of thin
face. Everyone, even Mike's wife, was horn-rimmed spectacles that she held out
watching him now. I heard the maid put to him, and for a moment he hesitated.
down the dish of vegetables on the 'Are they? Perhaps they are, I don't know.
sideboard behind me, gently, so as not to 'Yes, sir, they're yours. 'The maid was an
disturb the silence. elderly woman nearer seventy than sixty -
'Ah!' he cried. 'I have it! Yes, I think I have a faithful family retainer of many years'
it!' For the last time, he sipped the wine. standing. She put the spectacles down on
Then, still holding the glass up near his the table beside him.
mouth, he turned to Mike and he smiled, a Without thanking her, Pratt took them up
slow, silky smile, and he said, 'You know and slipped them into his top pocket,
what this is? This is the little Château behind the white handkerchief.
Branaire-Ducru,' Mike sat tight, not But the maid didn't go away. She remained standing
moving. beside and slightly behind Richard Pratt, and there was
‘And the year, 1934.' We all looked at Mike, something so unusual in her manner and in the way she
waiting for him to turn the bottle around in stood there, small, motionless and erect, that I for one
its basket and show the label. found myself watching her with a sudden apprehension.
'Is that your final answer?' Mike said, 'Yes, Her old grey face had a frosty, determined look, the lips
I think so.' 'Well, is it or isn't it?' 'Yes, it is.' were compressed, the little chin was out, and the hands
'What was the name again?’ 'Château were clasped together tight before her. The curious cap on
Branaire-Ducru. Pretty little vineyard. her head and the flash of white down the front of her
Lovely old château. Know it quite well. uniform made her seem like some tiny, ruffled, white-
Can't think why I didn't recognise it at breasted bird. 'You left them in Mr Schofield's study,. she
once.' 'Come on, Daddy,' the girl said. said. Her voice was unnaturally, deliberately polite. 'On top

6
of the green filing cabinet in his study, sir, when you
happened to go in there by yourself before dinner.' It took
a few moments for the full meaning of her words to
penetrate, and in the silence that followed I became aware
of Mike and how he was slowly drawing himself up in his
chair, and the colour corning to his face, and the eyes
opening wide, and the curl of the mouth, and the
dangerous little patch of whiteness beginning to spread
around the area of the nostrils.
'Now, Michael' his wife said. 'Keep calm now, Michael,
dear! Keep calm!'

Recording from:
Selected shorts. / Volume VIII 1994 Audiobook on
Cassette
Taste (28:37) / Roald Dahl ; read by Geraldine Fitzgerald