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 extra," he said. "It's a sort of flourish. And sometimes it's like leaving cards by footmen—a substitute for the real presence."

There came a gap. He remained downcast, trying to find a way towards whatever it was that was in his mind to say. Conceivably, he did not clearly know what that might be until he came to it. The Sea Lady abandoned an attempt to understand him in favour of a more urgent topic.

"Do you think Miss Glendower and Mr. Chatteris?"

Melville looked up at her. He noticed she had hung on the latter name. "Decidedly," he said. "It's just what they would do."

Then he spoke again. "Chatteris?" he said.

"Yes," said she.

"I thought so," said Melville.