“Goodness!” said Ms Blyton. “The Famous Five have turned 70, isn’t that jolly?” “Ripping!” said George (who hated being called Georgina), tucking into crumpets and lashings of ginger beer to celebrate in a manly sort of way. “Topping!” agreed Anne, kneeling submissively so that Julian and Dick could use her as a footstool. “Woof!” said Timmy the Dog, barking at a hapless editor who was a smuggler in disguise.