Trehern opened and shut his hands as if he felt for some object to hold on by. ‘I don’t rightly know about that,’ he said. ‘My little lad be’ant like other little lads, mister. He’m powerful easy put out. Lives in a world of his own, and not to be looked to if it’s straight-out facts that’s required. No hand at facts, be you, Wal? Tell you the truth, I doubt he’s took in this terrible business of Miss Cost.’

‘She’m dead,’ Wally shouted. ‘She’m stoned dead.’ And he gave one of his odd cries. Trehern looked very put out.

‘Poor Miss Cost,’ Jenny said gently.

‘Poor Miss Cost,’ Wally repeated cheerfully. Struck by some association of ideas he suddenly recited: ‘Be not froightened sayed the loidy Ended now is all your woe,’ and stopped as incontinently as he had begun.

Alleyn said: ‘Ah! That’s your piece you said yesterday, isn’t it?’ He clapped Wally on the shoulders. ‘Hallo, young fellow, you’ve been out in the rain! You’re as wet as a shag. That’s the way to get rheumatism.’

Trehern glowered upon his son. ‘Where you been?’ he asked.

‘Nowheres.’

‘You been mucking round they boats. Can’t keep him away from they boats,’ he said ingratiatingly. ‘Real fisherman’s lad, our Wal. Be’ant you, Wal?’

‘I dunno,’ Wally said nervously.

‘Come and show me these things,’ Alleyn suggested. Wally at once began to escort him round the room. It was difficult to determine how far below normal he was. He had something to say about each regrettable exhibit and what he said was always, however uncouth, applicable. Even if it was parrot-talk, Alleyn thought, it at least proved that Wally could connect the appropriate remark with the appointed object.

Jenny stayed for a minute or two, talking to Trehern who presently said something of which Alleyn only caught the tone of the voice. This was unmistakable. He turned quickly, saw that she was disconcerted and angry and called out: ‘How do you feel about tea and a bun? Wally: do you like ice-cream?’

Wally at once took Jenny’s hand and began to drag her to a door marked Teas at the end of the room.

There was nobody else in the tea-room. An elderly woman, whom Jenny addressed by name, took their order.

‘Was he being offensive, that type in there?’ Alleyn asked in French.

‘Yes.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘It doesn’t matter in the least,’ Jenny said. ‘What sort of tea do you like? Strong?’

‘Weak and no milk.’ Alleyn contemplated Wally whose face was already daubed with ice-cream. He ate with passionate, almost trembling, concentration.

‘It was raining this morning, wasn’t it, Wally?’

He nodded slightly.

‘Were you out in the rain?’

Wally laughed and blew ice-cream across the table.