“Attention,” the articulate oboe was calling. “Attention.” “Attention to what?” he asked, in the hope of eliciting a more enlightening answer than the one he had received from Mary Sarojini. “To attention,” said Dr. MacPhail. “Attention to attention?” “Of course.” “Attention,” the mynah chanted in ironical confirmation. “Do you have many of these talking birds?” “There must be at least a thousand of them flying about the island. It was the Old Raja’s idea. He thought it would do people good. Maybe it does, though it seems rather unfair to the poor mynahs. Fortunately, however, birds don’t
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