Practising in Northfield what his staff calls mainstreeting—pottering past shops talking to passers-by—he ducks into an artist's supply shop.

This was to defeat Podson's urgent need of anybody's company to reprieve him from his own. He was constantly letting out a howl of exasperation with, So help me Bob, Mudgy, you are a rude cow. Here have I been talking to you for half an hour and not a blinking word out of you. For which Bradly might, or might not, look frowningly round to locate a disturbance in the remote distance before returning to tonal trance again.

Numb and grimsome. It is a disgrace.

The number of recallable words from the list was much smaller after 24 hours.