That, Malone told himself, he could believe. It must be an experience, he told himself, like having someone you were looking at suddenly dissolve into a jumble of meaningless shapes and lights.
“That’s a very good analogy,” Her Majesty said. “If you’ll pardon me speaking before you’ve voiced your thought.”
“Not at all,” Malone said. “Go right ahead.”
“Well, then,” Her Majesty said. “The analogy you use is a good one. It’s just as disturbing and as meaningless as that.”
“And you don’t know what’s causing it?” Malone said.
“I don’t know,” she said.
“Nor what the purpose of it is?” he said.
Her Majesty shook her head slowly. “Sir Kenneth,” she said, “I don’t even know whether or not there is any purpose.”
Malone sighed deeply. Nothing in the case seemed to make any sense. It wasn’t that there were no clues, or no information for him to work with. There were a lot of clues, and there was a lot of information. But nothing seemed to link up with anything else. Every new fact was a bright, shiny arrow pointing nowhere in particular.
“Well, then—” he started.