It was now about 7 a.m. there was a sweet shop next door, and it was shuttlecock season. I went in and bought a wooden battledore, sawed off the end, hollowed it out with a knife, cut down the sides to the right width, placed it on the woman’s teeth, which were, fortunately, pretty sound, kept it there firmly by pressing the palm of my right hand under the chin, put the end of the handle on my left shoulder, grasped the middle with my left hand, and was delighted to find that I had leverage enough and to spare for easy replacement.