“The parcel was delivered by evening mail. Andrew Lemon shook it, wanting to know what was inside. The contents rustled like a huge, furry tarantula. He didn’t immediately muster the courage to tear off the wrapper with trembling fingers and remove the lid from the white cardboard box. There it was, rustling on a snow-white bed of tissue paper, impersonal, like clock springs for stuffing an old sofa instead of horsehair. Andrew Lemon grunted with pleasure..."