"The nurse flipped the card over. 'Tell me what you see.'
It appeared to be a postal card of Oxford. Seen from Headington Hill, her dear old dreaming spires and mossy stone, her hushed, elm-shaded quads where the last echoes of the Middle Ages can still be heard, murmuring of ancient learning and scholarly tradition, of—
'That's about enough of that,' she said, and wrenched the card out of my hand. 'You have an advanced case of time-lag, Mr. Henry.'"
Ch 2, p. 17.

"I distinctly remember Mr. Dunworthy saying, 'Here are your instructions,' and after that a jumble of Stilton spoons and collars and the All-Clear, and then he'd said the rest of the two weeks was mine to do with as I liked. Which obviously meant that a portion of it wasn't. And when I'd got in the net, Finch had said, 'We're...