In the pause that followed, Jack Lett said: “It’s just an idea, Captain. I’ve got lots more like it. I wanted to try this one for size.”

In spite of himself, Charles Bannister could not help feeling a trifle sick. He was ready to agree that the ornament was, in a way, simply a ‘novelty’, a commercial demonstration of Esther Costello’s known personality; but there was something in the three figures, and the hands over the eyes, ears, and mouth, which seemed an indecent comment upon her. It was akin to a Christmastime advertisement which had shocked him when he first saw it: ‘Unbeatable Value in Plastic Crib Sets – 4 Animals, 3 Wise Men, Manger, Mother, Babe: $1.98.’

Aware of his hesitation, Jack Lett was already talking fast.

“I’ve got plenty more ideas like it. You needn’t take this one. I think we might do business. That little girl of yours” – he raised his fingers, and kissed them, like a headwaiter over the sauce – “she’s a natural. I’ve been to all your meetings. Everybody’s talking about her. You want to cash in, Captain – in a dignified way, of course.”

“Dignified,” repeated Charles Bannister, looking at the three figures. And then: “You had this specially made – have you got a factory, or what?”

Jack Lett shook his head. “No, sir. I deal in ideas. I had it made by a friend of mine, because I wanted to illustrate an idea for you. I’ve got lots more. I thought we could do some business together. Are you interested?”

“I haven’t thought of it,” said Charles Bannister, untruthfully. “All we’ve done so far is to have these lectures and demonstrations – raising money for the blind.”

Jack Lett nodded energetically. “And very fine work, too,” he said. “I haven’t yet had the pleasure of meeting Mrs Bannister, but it was clear to me, from watching her, that she’s a fine woman, a deeply religious woman, devoted to the interests of this child.”

“Yes, indeed,” said Charles Bannister.

“Then we can do business … it’s fine work,” he repeated, “but there’s never any harm in building up a sideline. It always helps with the publicity.” His hand darted into the briefcase again. “Have a look at this.”

This was a large toy dog, made of brown felt – an Alsatian. Round its neck was a collar with the words: ‘Esther Costello’s Seeing Eye’.

“It barks and whines,” said Jack Lett. “We could sell a million …” He seemed to be bursting out of his clothes at the thought. “Lots of money for the blind, and a little for me … I thought up a game, too,” he said, and plunged down again. “Now this could sweep the country. It’s like snakes and ladders – you know how that works.” He produced a board, and unfolded it. Its details were too intricate for Charles Bannister to take in all at once, but he saw that the board was marked out in a progressive series of squares, forming a pathway leading to the centre, which was labelled: ‘Sight, Hearing, Speech’. He read the words: ‘Meet Mrs Bannister – Go Forward Six Squares’, and farther on: ‘Trip Over Steps – Go Back Four’. Swallowing, he said: “I think we’d better both have a drink.”