Moïse. “Go on, please.”
Spook. “He says, if I understand him rightly (as yet he is not very good at conveying thoughts), that if you are friends he can reveal now.”
Moïse (aside in excitement, “Mon Dieu!”) (Aloud): “What does he mean by friends?”
Spook. “Not those he hates.”
Moïse. “We don’t know if he hates us or not.”
Spook. “Turks. He wants to speak to you himself to see if you are friends.”
Moïse. “Mr. Jones is a English. Mr. Hill too, and I am Ottoman, but not a Turk. Let him speak to us, Sir.”
Spook. “Are you ready? He is going to try.”
Moïse. “All right.”
The glass now moved round the board in short, jerky movements, but did not touch any letters. The jerky movements then stopped, and our Spook took control again.