"The British Army. And I have more good news for you: I have established the fact that X exists. She had tea with him one day. Picked him up at the Midland, in the lounge."
"Picked him up? But she is just a child, and so— Oh, well, she told that story, of course. After that anything is possible. How did you find out that?"
He told her.
"You've had a bad day at The Franchise, haven't you," he said, when he had finished the saga of the coffee shops.
"Yes, I feel dirty all over. What was worse than the audience and the wall was the post. The postman gave it to the police to take in. It is not often that the police can be accused of disseminating obscene literature."
"Yes, I imagine it must have been pretty bad. That was only to be expected."
"Well, we have so few letters that we have decided that in future we shall burn everything without opening them, unless we recognise the writing. So don't use typescript if you write to us."
"But do you know my handwriting?"
"Oh, yes, you wrote us a note, you remember. The one Nevil brought that afternoon. Nice handwriting."
"Have you seen Nevil today?"