I wonder where those kids went. Something would have to be done about that. Are those front teeth your own?"
"The two middle ones are caps. They were kicked out."
"They went to someone here in town, I remember that much. There was a London trip to see the dentist twice a year; once before Christmas and once in the summer. They went to the dentist in the morning and to a show in the afternoon: pantomime in the winter and the Tournament at Olympia in the summer. These are the kind of things you would have to know, by the way."
"Yes?"
The gentle monosyllable maddened Loding.
"Look, Farrar, what are you frightened of? A strawberry mark? I bathed with that kid in the buff many a time and he hadn't as much as a mole on him. He was so ordinary that you could order him by the dozen from any prep. school in England. You are more like his brother at this moment than that kid ever was, twins though they were. I tell you, I thought for a moment that you were young Ashby. Isn't that good enough for you? You come and live with me for a fortnight and by the end of it there won't be anything you don't know about the village of Clare and its inhabitants. Nor anything about Latchetts. I know every last pantry in it. Nor anything about the Ashbys. Can you swim, by the way?"
The young man nodded. He had gone back to his glass of beer.
"Swim well?"
"Yes."
"Don't you ever qualify a statement?"
"Not unless it needs it."
"The kid could swim like an eel. There's the matter of ears, too. Yours look ordinary enough, and his must have been ordinary too or I should remember. Anyone who has worked in a life-class notices ears. But I must see what photographs of him exist. Front ones wouldn't matter, but a real close-up of an ear might be a give-away. I think I must take a trip to Clare and do some prospecting."
"Don't bother on my account."
Loding was silent for a moment. Then he said, reasonably: "Tell me, do you believe my story at all?"
"Your story?"
"Do you believe that I am who I say I am, and that I come from a village called Clare, where there is someone who is practically your double? Do you believe that? Or do you think that this is just a way of getting you to come home with me?"
"No, I didn't think it was that. I believe your story."
"Well, thank heaven for that, at least," Loding said with a quirk of his eyebrow. "I know that my looks are not what they were, but I should be shattered to find that they suggested the predatory. Well, then. That settled, do you believe that you are as like young Ashby as I say?"
For a whole turn of the glass there was no answer. "I doubt it."
"Why?"
"On your own showing it is some time since you saw him."
"But you don't have to be young Ashby. Just look like him.
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