" "Well, take a chair," rejoined Kneebone. “Excuse me?” Mike threw Michelle a strange look, bursting into a grin. Her fingers passed over a cunningly wrought surface of wood, with just the correct amount of protrusion, the precise colours of dyed leather, and cleverly gilded surfaces and neatly painted lettering. He realized that he was committed to the path across the fields, an uninteresting walk at the best of times. “Good luck! Good luck!” She waved from the window until the bend hid him. Jack, whose back was towards it, did not see it; but he heard, from the pitying exclamations of the crowd, that it was in view. Catch him, she begged silently. “He must never know,” she would whisper to herself, “he must never know.
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