A less pleasant surprise waited for them within fifty yards of the dock. With a shout they were accosted by a man of about their own age. He had long black hair, and a long black coat of a somehow futuristic style. When they turned at his shout he was stomping up to them, frowning.
"You look familiar!" he said, coming right up to Bush, pointing with an accusing finger.
Bush blinked and shot a quick embarrassed, apologetic look to his fellow. "I'm sorry, sir, I don't believe we've met." Bush doubted that he could possibly have met this fellow before now, given that the gentry were in the habit from time immemorial of shipping their mad sons off to foreign climes.
"I'm the Doctor," the madman introduced himself. "And I know those features, from somewhere ..." He snapped his fingers. "Your people would be from Pease Pottage, wouldn't they!"
Bush blinked again. "Why yes."
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