Chalgrove nips back into the street, and sets off briskly over the crest of the little hill. He threads his way through colleges with his eye on a magnificent circular spire still further ahead.

Chalgrove is not the man for big breaches of etiquette. But it's a trick he employs occasionally. No haphazard reconnaissance has yet tumbled Appleby. Nor via any intelligence has it become clear to Broadstairs. It is an affordance known only to Chalgrove.

The fact is, that unless certain protocols be observed, it is impossible for them to separate.

Appleby

There you are.

Broadstairs

What happened to lunch?

Chalgrove

I though you wanted to get back home.