I had to rush out to the butcher's for his favorite and exclusive dish. As soon as I've left his meal on the table, I have to withdraw, since he doesn't like anyone there when he's eating. In point of fact, this is a rather foolish thing to do, for I have to admit there is nothing especially remarkable in what I see. The moment the mosquito is certain that I have left the dining room, he descends in the unhurried manner that accords with his position and alights on the china dish. No part of this activity differentiates him from any other mosquito in the world.
Lunch usually takes two or three minutes.
The truth is that I spy on him every day. Once he has satisfied his hunger, he is overcome by lassitude and heaviness and, apparently, canriot return to his residence beside the sheep picture. At this point he prefers a bit of a nap on the baseboard at exactly the spot where the paint has begun to flake. He wakes up at around five, making no further sorties through the house at this time. He sites himself beside the picture and stays there until dinner.