'My peregrinations began in that dark hour.' Five years have passed since this harridan besmirched my name, yes, with imputations that resulted in my being blackballed from Society.' Dr. Ewing, are you acquainted with Marchioness Grace of Mayfair? No? The better for you, for she is a corpse in petticoats.

'Nor shall I enlighten you, sir, for 'tis a professional secret!' He tapped his nose. Do you know the price a quarter pound will earn, sir?' But these base molars, sir, shall be transmuted to gold & how? An artisan of Piccadilly who fashions denture sets for the nobility pays handsomely for human gnashers. The teeth, they spat out, as you or I would expel cherry stones. In days gone by this Arcadian strand was a cannibals' banqueting hall, yes, where the strong engorged themselves on the weak. 'Teeth, sir, are the enameled grails of the quest in hand. Goose shook his head, knotted loose his 'kerchief & displayed its contents with clear pride. Had the doctor misplaced anything on that dismal shore? Could I render assistance? Dr. If there be any eyrie so desolate, or isle so remote, that one may there resort unchallenged by an Englishman, 'tis not down on any map I ever saw. Henry Goose, surgeon to the London nobility.

Thus it was, I made the acquaintance of Dr. Through rotting kelp, sea cocoa-nuts & bamboo, the tracks led me to their maker, a White man, his trowzers & Pea-jacket rolled up, sporting a kempt beard & an outsized Beaver, shoveling & sifting the cindery sand with a teaspoon so intently that he noticed me only after I had hailed him from ten yards away. Beyond the Indian hamlet, upon a forlorn strand, I happened on a trail of recent footprints.

David mitchell cloud atlas author