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snacks,” she said. “If you take doughnuts, for example… a typical sugar-coated doughnut contains over 200 calories.”
    “It sounds very good value, Miss Brimstone,” said Paddington, raising his hat politely as he rose to his feet. “If I may, I wouldn’t mind two of those while I recover.”
    “You will do no such thing,” barked Miss Brimstone sternly. “You must realise that in order to counterbalance the gain in weight from eating just one doughnut you would need to spend nearly an hour on a bicycle.”
    “That’s all right,” said Paddington, breathing a sigh of relief.
    “You don’t mind doing that?”
    “I haven’t got a bicycle,” said Paddington.
    “Aha!” said Miss Brimstone. “In that case, we are in luck’s way. I happen to have the very thing.” She pointed to a contraption in the corner of her gym. “It’s what is known as an exercise machine.”
    Paddington eyed the object dubiously.
    “I don’t think Mr Brown will be very keen on having one of those in our driveway,” he said. “He won’t be able to get his car out for a start.”
    “Don’t worry,” said Miss Brimstone. “It’s bolted to the floor.
    “You may find this hard to believe,” she continued, “but some of my clients spend an hour working out in the gym and at the end of it all they go straight to the nearest cake shop and undo all the good work by stuffing themselves with blueberry muffins. Some of the larger ones contain nearly 400 calories.”
    Paddington didn’t find it hard to believe at all. All the talk about food you ought not to eat was occupying his own mind to the exclusion of everything else, and he was beginning to feel hungrier than ever.
    “We never had anything like that in Darkest Peru,” he said, looking at the machine.
    “Have no fear,” said Miss Brimstone. “It doesn’t go anywhere. That’s the beauty of it. You simply pedal away to your heart’s content for as long as it takes to remove the excess fat. Allow me to give you a hand…”
    Having managed to lift Paddington on to the saddle, she stood back and surveyed the result.
    “Oh dear,” she said. “Our feet are rather a long way from the pedals…”
    “I’m afraid I can’t reach the handlebars either,” said Paddington.

    “Stay right where you are,” said Miss Brimstone. “Don’t move an inch or we could have a nasty ax. I shall have to try lowering the saddle. Excuse me while I look for a suitable spanner.”
    Reaching for her handbag she began rummaging through it. “It’s a shame,” she said. “My treatment is guaranteed to take you out of yourself.”
    “I think I’d rather stay inside it for the time being if you don’t mind, Miss Brimstone,” said Paddington.
    Marooned in midair, he clung on to the saddle with one paw as Miss Brimstone handed him a card. “It’s a list of my charges,” she said briefly. “You may like to browse through them while you’re waiting.”
    Paddington did as he was told and then wished he hadn’t.
    “It’s a lot of buns’ worth,” he announced over the sound of banging coming from the direction of the front door. “I shall have to think it over.”
    “Oh dear,” said Miss Brimstone, abandoning her search for a spanner. “It really isn’t your fault, but I shouldn’t have taken you on in the first place. I shan’t be ready for a day or two and now it sounds as though I have another customer…”
    Seeing what she took to be a look of disappointment on Paddington’s face, and conscious of the continued banging, Miss Brimstone lifted him off the saddle.
    “At least you can take a present away with you!” she said. “I know you will want to come back when you’ve thought things over, so in the meantime, if I can have your name, I would like to present you with a special gift voucher.” She scribbled a note on one of her cards. “It allows for one free go on my Advanced Personal Training Course. In the meantime you can tell all your friends what a