Two spindly wiry men, who to Henry’s mind looked positively spider-like, stood wheezing from the effort of their laughter, among the cobwebs of the black cellar room.
Mr Archibald Lib
“This is all my work. All of it. All of these books, manuscripts, pamphlets. I’ve dedicated my life to collecting and cataloguing every snippet. If it wasn’t for me, you and many others would never have been published at all. If it wasn’t for all
my work you wouldn’t just be invisible, you wouldn’t even exist.”
Mr Ignatius Rary
“The police do what can reasonably be done. Here we deal with the rest. Call it the impossible, if you like, but I can assure you it is no more than a fresh pair of eyes. He is flesh and blood after all. He can no more disappear into thin air than any other physical entity notwithstanding the theories of quantum mechanics. I think we should be able to get him here for the end of today, and if we don’t then we’ll find another boy to stand in for him,” he replied with the confidence of a trickster.