"If I'm snickering at anything," he grinned, "it's at the way you're weaving and doddering, old man." Even so, he downed the rest of his glass and obligingly went to fiddle with the buttons. In retaliation for having to sing alone, he picked a short track, one that had lyrics that hit a little close to home but for some reason Barnaby wasn't bothered about that.

You part the waters,
The same ones that I'm drowning in
You lead your casual slaughters,
And I'm the one who helps you win.
You've got your grand piano...