In all the commotion I slipped away then and to a lower floor.

I crept down the main staircase. There was a man in official Iremonger uniform, with gold-braided bay leaves, fast asleep at a desk. He’ll drown in his sleep if the heaps have anything to do with it. I heard footsteps on the marble stairs. I ducked down behind the man’s chair, behind him at his desk. Someone ran past, stopped for a moment before the desk, and I saw the trousers again with the same scuffed shoe. Trousers stopped a moment then hurried on. Official uniform still sleeping, I entered his corridor. This must be an important place, I thought, let’s see what’s within. The door handles were porcelain with pretty flowers on them, I turned a handle, stepped in. Treasure room! Paintings in gold frames, polished tables and all manner of stuff on top of them. A huge marble fireplace with marble women, naked nearly, holding up the shelf. What place is this? I hadn’t gone two steps before an old voice called out to me, ‘Who is it, who’s there?’

An old woman was inside a great four-poster; she was awake but her bed curtains were drawn. I couldn’t see her and she couldn’t see me. I hid behind a great ugly seat; after a bit looked out above it.

‘Someone’s here, I know it.’

A head came from the curtain, an awful withered face, old and lean.

‘Who’s there? Show yourself.’

No, no I shan’t. Can’t make me.

‘Who is it?’ called the old woman. ‘Is it you, Iremonger, have you come to check upon me? If it’s you I shan’t be angry. Declare yourself. Has the train come in yet? Who is there? I shall not be angry, only show yourself this instant. Piggott! Is it you again, Piggott? Have you found it? It’s not good enough just to disperse a Gathering, that won’t win you any medals. Is it you, Piggott, come to tell me how useless you are? No, no, you wouldn’t do that, would you? You wouldn’t come up again until you’ve found it. It’s not you then. Someone else? But who? Is it, could it possibly be …’ Her voice was quieter, then, ‘Is it … the it? It’s got lost, hasn’t it? Somehow stumbled its way in here. That’s it. The it.’

The old woman was silent a while and then the emaciated figure came out from her bed. On her night stand, I saw, but a glass of water, no birth object at all.