The casket of my ancestors is returned

'Mon dieu! Sacre bleu and quelle surprise, I am scripted to say,' said Camille. 'At last it is returned!'

'So, it is yours?' gasped Norma.

'Non!' replied Camille. 'And yet, yes!'

'Slightly confused?' said Norma.

'And well you might be,' replied Camille, 'but I shall explain.

And so she did.

'Many generations ago, ma great, great, great, uncle, aunt, grandmother, who cares really, placed into a sacred casket, a treasure so important, so valued, that it was said, that if it was ever lost, our family would be forced to live in slightly reduced circumstances and take occasional paid work.'

'And I'm guessing it WAS lost!' said Norma.

'Indeed, ma chum Norma,' replied Camille. 'Some later ancestor, perhaps a nephew with a limp or a cousin, the story has become confused, was travelling in distant lands when they were attacked by badgers or otters or maybe a ground dwelling owl with two extra false legs and the casket was lost.'

'And yet you recognise it?'

'Because it was soooo valuable the casket appeared in several still life paintings which ma ancestors commissioned.'

'And the paintings remain in your hooves?'

' 'ave you ever tried selling still life paintings?' asked Camille. 'So, yes, I 'ave them.'

'But how can we open it?'

'Ah!' replied Camille. 'The casket was lost but the key remained. It was passed down from hoof to hoof and so it is 'ere with me, even as we speak, 'ere in ma 'andbag, along with 15 lipsticks, 3 'airbrushes and a diary which contains the names and addresses of people I no longer wish to speak to.'

And to prove it Camille rummaged in her handbag....and then took some stuff out and had a second rummage...and then had a third rummage because she was sure that she had seen it only an hour before next to a tube of out of date mints.