'I would be happier if you chained me down,' said Nutt.
'What? Why do you think we should do that?' said Glenda.
'I think you should beware. Some things leak around the door. They may be bad.'
Glenda looked at the claws. They were a shiny black and, in their way, quite neat, but it was hard to imagine them being used for, say, painting a picture or cooking an omelette. They were claws, and claws were for clawing, weren't they? But this was Mr Nutt. Even with claws it was still Mr Nutt.
'Shall we get started?' said Trev.
'I insist on the chains,' said Nutt. 'There are all sorts of metal things in the old storeroom four doors down. I saw chains there. Please hurry.'
Automatically Glenda looked down at the claws and saw they had grown longer. 'Yes, Trev, please hurry.'
Trev followed her gaze and said brightly, 'I'll be back before you know I've gone.'
In fact, it was less than a couple of minutes, and she could hear the clanking as he dragged them all the way down the passageway.
Glenda was fighting tears at the simple strangeness of the whole business. Nutt lay there, looking at the ceiling, as they lifted him on to the couch and carefully wrapped the chains around him.
'There's padlocks, but there's no keys. I can close them, but I can't open them.'
'Close them,' said Nutt.
Glenda had very seldom cried, and she was trying not to now. 'I don't think we should be doing this,' she said. 'Not here in the vats. People are watching.'
'Please swing your pendulum, Mister Trev,' said Nutt.
Trev shrugged and did so.
'Now you have to start telling me that I am feeling sleepy, Mister Trev,' said Nutt.
Trev cleared his throat and swung the shiny can back and forth. 'You are definitely feelin' sleepy. Extremely sleepy.'
'That is good. I am feeling enormously sleepy,' said Nutt wearily. 'And now you must ask me to analyse myself.'
'What does that mean?' said Glenda sharply, always on the lookout for dangerous words.
'I'm sorry,' said Nutt. 'I mean, help me examine in detail the workings of my own mind by means of question and answer.'
'But I don't know the questions to ask,' said Trev.
'I do,' said Nutt patiently, 'but you must instruct me to do it.'
Trev shrugged. 'Mister Nutt, you must find out what is wrong with Mister Nutt,' he said.
'Ah yes,' said Nutt, his tone of voice changing slightly. 'Are ve comfortable, Mister Nutt? Yes, thank you. The chains hardly chafe at all. Verrry good. Now, tell me about your mother, Mister Nutt. I am familiar with the concept, but I never had a mother as I recall. Thank you for asking anyway,' said Nutt.
And so the monological dialogue began. The other two sat on the stone steps as the quiet voice unravelled itself until: 'Ah yes, ze library. Is zere something in ze library, Mister Nutt?'
'There are many books in the library.'
'What else is in ze library, Mister Nutt?'
'There are many chairs and ladders in the library.'
'And what is in ze library zat you do not want to tell me about, Mister Nutt?'
They waited. At last, the voice said, 'There's a cupboard in the library.'