"I rang up your chief this morning. I want some information." He drew from his pocket an envelope, a small black notebook and a fountain pen. "Now then."
David felt uncomfortably reminded of his Oxford days, when, confronted by four insatiable examiners, he had racked his brains to supply them with information that was not forthcoming.
"I received a letter yesterday from the schoolmaster of a village called Anderby in the East Riding of Yorkshire, asking me if I can offer any assistance in the way of forming a branch of the agricultural labourers' union. He says you have visited the village and that the men were interested in your statements."
He looked rather incredulously at David, who was rolling bread balls with inefficient absorption.
"I shouldn't have thought it," murmured David.
Hunting's glance seemed to say "Neither should I," but aloud he continued, "I should like to know something more about that village."
David stopped playing with his bread and turned to Hunting.
"Well?"
"Perhaps you will be good enough to read this letter."
"From Coast?"