“I remember,” she said, “that the first night I saw you, you spoke of my sister as your friend. " "A short man, isn't he, about your height, Sir,—with a yellow beard, and a face as sly as a fox's?" "Hem!" replied Wood, coughing slightly to conceal a smile; "the description's not amiss. I next proceeded to Jenny Bunch's, the Ship, in Trig Lane—there I got the same answer. An extra pair of gym clothes materialized within fractions of a second. . Several people were passed out on the sectional sofa, and muffled noises emanated from other rooms indicating that the party’s embers were still smoldering, but John was nowhere to be seen. Their talk drifted to the beauty of music, and they took that up again at tea-time.
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