"Oh, that."
"Yes I suppose she couldn't have made a mistake, Bill? She did hear him?"
"She couldn't have mistaken his voice, if that's what you mean."
"Oh?"
"Mark had an extraordinary characteristic voice."
"Oh!"
"Rather high-pitched, you know, and well, one can't explain, but—"
"Yes?"
"Well, rather like this, you know, or even more so if anything." He rattled these words off in Mark's rather monotonous, high-pitched voice, and then laughed, and added in his natural voice, "I say, that was really rather good."
Antony nodded quickly. "That was like it?" he said.
"Exactly."
"Yes." He got up and squeezed Bill's arm. "Well just go and see about Cayley, and then we'll get moving. I shall be in the library."
"Right."
Bill nodded and walked off in the direction of the pond. This was glorious fun; this was life. The immediate programme could hardly be bettered. First of all he was going to stalk Cayley. There was a little copse above the level of the pond, and about a hundred yards away from it. He would come into this from the back, creep cautiously
