Arthur Vance is sixty-three and has run that branch since 2009 and he came out from behind the glass and walked across a green carpet without making any sound at all.

He said: “Chloe.”

Not can I help you.

My name, which I had never given him.

“Please bring the book and come into my office.”

His office is extremely neat in the way that only one kind of person’s office is neat.

There was nothing on the desk except a blotter, a telephone, and a small square of blue microfibre cloth.

He sat down and picked up the cloth and took off his glasses and started to polish them, and I have since learned that this is what that man does with his hands when he is deciding what he is permitted to say.