He said at last-- "You must have been thinking a lot about Carfax lately." "What did I say ?" asked Olva again.
"Oh, nothing." Craven turned his eyes away to the shadowy panes.

"You were dreaming about a road--and something about a wood.

.

.

and a matchbox." "I've been sleeping badly." Olva got up, filled his pipe and relit it.
"I expect, although we don't say much about it, the Carfax business has got on all our nerves.