“Well, as a matter of fact, it was Bertie who put it into my head.”

“Me!”

“You were telling me the other day about old Bingo Little and the beard he bought when he didn’t want his uncle to recognise him.”

“If you think I’m going to have you two excrescences popping in and out of my flat in beards⁠—”

“Something in that,” agreed Eustace. “We’ll make it whiskers, then.”

“And false noses,” said Claude.

“And, as you say, false noses. Right-o, then, Bertie, old chap, that’s a load off your mind. We don’t want to be any trouble to you while we’re paying you this little visit.”