On hos way up the wide staircase Mark caught sight of himself and his companion in a mirror.  Feverstone looked, as always, master of his clothes, his face, and the whole situation.  The blob of cotton wool on Mark's upper lip had been blown awry during the journey so that it looked like one-half of a fiercely up-turned false moustache and revealed a patch of blackened blood beneath it.  A moment later he found himself in a big-windowed room with a blazing fire, being introduced to Mr. John Wither, Deputy Director of the N.I.C.E.

Wither was a white-haired old man with a courtly manner.  His face was clean shaven and very large indeed, with watery blue eyes and something rather vague and chaotic about it.  He did not appear to be giving them his whole attention and this impression must, I think, have been due to the eyes, for his actual words and gestures were polite to the point of effusiveness.  He said it was a great, a very great pleasure, to welcome Mr. Studdock among them.  It added to the deep obligations under which Lord Feverstone had already laid him.  He hoped they had had an agreeable journey.  Mr. Wither appeared to be under the impression that they had come by air and, when this was corrected, that they had come from London by train.  Then he began enquiring whether Mr. Studdock found his quarters perfectly comfortable and had to be reminded that they had only that moment arrived.  "I suppose," thought Mark, "the old chap is trying to put me at my ease."  In fact, Mr. Wither's conversation was having precisely the opposite effect.  Mark wished he would offer him a cigarette.  His growing conviction that this man really knew nothing about him and even that all the well-knit schemes and promises of Feverstone were at this moment dissolving into some sort of mist, was extremely uncomfortable.  At last he took his courage in both hands and endeavoured to bring Mr. Wither to the point by saying that he was still not quite clear in what capacity he would be able to assist the Institute.

"I assure you, Mr. Studdock," said the Deputy Director with an unusually far away look in his eye, "that you needn't anticipate the slightest - er - the slightest difficulty on that point.  There was never any idea of circumscribing your activities and your general influence on policy, much less your relations with your colleagues and what I might call in general the terms of reference under which you would be collaborating with us, without the fullest possible consideration of your own views and, indeed, your own advice.  You will find us, Mr. Studdock, if I might express myself in that way, a very happy family."

"Oh, don't misunderstand me, Sir," said Mark.  "I didn't mean that at all.  I only meant that I felt I should like some sort of idea of what exactly I should be doing if I came to you."

"Well now, when you speak of coming to us," said the Deputy Director, "that raises a point on which I hope there is no misunderstanding.  I think we all agreed that no question of residence need be raised - I mean, at this stage.  We thought, we all thought, that you should be left entirely free to carry on your work wherever you pleased.  If you care to live in London or Cambridge -"

"Edgestow," prompted Lord Feverstone.

"Ah yes, Edgestow," here the Deputy Director turned round and addressed Feverstone.  "I was just explaining to Mr. - er - Studdock, and I feel sure you will fully agree with me, that nothing was further from the mind of the Committee than to dictate in any way, or even to advise, where Mr. - where your friend should live.  Of course, wherever he lives we should naturally place air transport and road transport at his disposal.  I daresay, Lord Feverstone, you have already explained to him that he will find all questions of that sort will adjust themselves without the smallest difficulty."

"Really, Sir," said Mark, "I wasn't thinking about that at all.  I haven't - I mean I shouldn't have the smallest objection to living anywhere: I only -"

The Deputy Director interrupted him, if anything so gentle as Wither's voice can be called an interruption.  "But I assure you, Mr. - er - I assure you, Sir, that there is not the smallest objection to your residing wherever you may find it convenient.  There was never, at any stage, the slightest suggestion -"  But here Mark, almost in desperation, ventured to interrupt himself.

"It is the exact nature of the work," he said, "and of my qualifications for it that I wanted to get clear."