“This place has stood since the year twelve something, and its windows look down without even the interruption of a sill at the coming and going of the tides.  It has hardly any garden, and immediately to the right and the left of it the green down brims over the top of the cliff like the froth of ale over a silver goblet.  To-night the tide is low, the sea is golden where the shallow waves break upon the sand, and ghostly green in the distance.  When the tide is high, the sound and the sight of it seem to meet and make one thing.  The waves press up the cliff then, and fall back on each other.  Do you know the lines that are written on the face of a disappointed wave?  To-night the clouds are like castles built on the plain of the sea.  There is an aeroplane at this moment—­dim as a little thought—­coming between two turrets of cloud.  I suppose it is that I can hear, but it sounds like the distant singing of the moon.  I have come here to count up my theories, to count them and pile them up like money, in heaps, according to their value.  Theories are such beautiful things, there must be some use in them.  Or perhaps they are like money from a distant country, and not in currency here.  Yet just as sheer metal, they must have some value....  It is wonderful that such happiness should come to me, and that it should last.  I have the Sea and a Friend; there is nothing in the world I lack, and nothing that I regret....”

“What better clue could you want?” asked Mrs. Gustus.  “We will take Christina round the sea-coast.”

“Looking for silver cliffs and a golden sea,” sighed Kew.

I don’t know if I have mentioned or conveyed to you that Mrs. Gustus was a determined woman.  At any rate she was, and it would therefore be waste of time to describe the gradual defeat of Kew.  The final stage was the despatch of Kew to call on Nana in the Brown Borough.  Jay’s letter had the Brown Borough postmark, so it had apparently been sent to Nana to post.  Nana might be described as the Second Clue in the pursuit of Jay.  She was the Family’s only link with Jay.  The one drawback of Nana as a clue was that she was never to be found.  Mrs. Gustus had called six times, but had been repulsed on each occasion by a totally dumb front door.  But then Nana never had liked Anonyma.  Nana was simple herself in an amateurish, unconscious sort of way, and I expect she disliked Anonyma’s professional rivalry in the matter of simplicity.  But Kew was always a favourite.

The ’bus roared up the canyons of the City, and its voice accompanied Kew in his tuneful meditations.  A ’bus is not really well adapted for meditation.  On my feet I can stride across unseen miles musing on love, in a taxi I can think about to-morrow’s dinner, but on a ’bus my thoughts will go no further than my eyes can see.  So Kew, although he thought he was thinking of Jay, was really considering the words in front of him—­To Stop O’Bus strike Bell at Rear.[Footnote:  He must have changed at the Bank into a Tilling ’bus.] He deduced from this that it was an Irish ’bus, and supposed that this accounted for its rather head-long behaviour.  He spent some moments in imagining the MacBus, child of a sterner race, which would run gutturally without skids, and wear a different cut of bonnet.