"My name," said Janet, "is Janet Avory. I live in Chiswick. Our caravan is the Slowcoach. We are going to Stratford-on-Avon. Our horse is called Moses. Our—"
"Oh, Janet," said Hester, "you're not leaving anything for us to tell!"
"Very well," said Janet, "that's all."
"My name," said Mary, "is Mary Rotheram. I am the daughter of a doctor at Chiswick. My brother and I are the Avories' guests. I am fourteen. Father has one of your pictures."
"Good judge!" Mr. MacAngus said.
"Now, Macbeth," he said, pointing to Robert.
"My name isn't Macbeth," said Robert.
"No," said the artist, "but that's how I think of you. Why? Can anyone tell me?"
"I can," said Hester. "Because he woke you up—'Macbeth hath murdered sleep.'"
"Splendid!" said Mr. MacAngus. "As a reward you shall tell your story before Macbeth does."