"You don't mean?"
"Yes, I do."
"The real Mackay?"
"Alike as two postage stamps."
"Where've you got him?"
"Here, in your bathroom—changing."
"Changing?"
"Of course. Couldn't bring him as he was. They'd have spotted him for certain. So I draped him in a nurse's cloak and cap over his ordinary gear. Looked fine under a veil with his face painted pretty and pink. He's washing it off now."
"Is he like me?" said Barraclough.
"Like you!"