'I was struck by his appearance the moment I set eyes on him,' she said, taking her cue. 'You have presence, Mr Kellow, and that is the most important quality of all. Vocal tricks and histrionic gestures can be taught but stage presence is a natural gift. Come now, there must have been times when you felt the urge to perform in public.'

'Never, Miss Linnane,' said Kellow with a self-effacing laugh. 'The truth of it is I'm rather a timid fellow.'

'Timidity is something that can easily be shed.'

'Kate is right,' added Buckmaster, taking a silver case from his pocket and extracting a card. 'Here – take this. If ever you change your mind, there will always be a place for you in my company.' Kellow took the gold-edged card and inspected it. 'You would have to start at the bottom, you understand, with small parts and meagre rewards but think what glories might lie ahead – Hugh Kellow in Hamlet!'

The silversmith shrugged. 'I think I will stick to my trade, sir.'

'Keep my card and come to see us perform in Cardiff.'

'Oh, I am not staying in the town, sir.'

'No?'

'I simply have to make a delivery,' said Kellow, slipping the card into his pocket, 'then I catch a return train to London. On that journey, I fear, I will not have such distinguished company in first class. Mr Voke bought me a second class ticket.'

'I fancy that I see why,' said Kate, who had been watching the way his arm never left the bag. 'You must be carrying something of great value if you would not let your luggage be stowed on top of the carriage. May we ask what it is?'

Kellow bit his lip before speaking. 'It's a locomotive,' he said. 'To be more exact, it's a silver coffee pot in the shape of a locomotive.'