“Oh come on!” He snorted. “Even a dummy would twig they wuz being played” The wall remained impassive, bar a quiver which may have been an aborted attempt to join the dusty corner behind the sofa or just the Elm tree in the front garden waving at the window. “Y’know, it takes cynical acumen to cast sufficient shadow of doubt over an already shady cast to render their intentions as opaque as you are transparent, tempered by a resignation that a born again Christian politician couldn’t muster if open prison depended on it to remain aloof.” The wall might have issued a dejected groan at this point, but it was more likely a lorry rumbling past the end of the street. Wheeling round at the end of another length of the living room he pointed an accusing finger at the emulsively evenhanded barrier. “When lucidity becomes your most prized possession don’t act so surprised or hurt when the owner gets mad at you.” The wall, left alone, probably groused at the ceiling or possibly prayed fervently for dereliction.