“Has something happened to Mary?” William Buckland asked “No, no, she is well.” Reverend Conybeare frowned, and even Mr Buckland, who was not a frowner, wrinkled his brow “Miss Philpot,” Reverend Conybeare began, “we are about to hold our meeting at which both Mr Buckland and I will be giving important—nay, even history-making—addresses to the Society Surely your query about Miss Anning can wait until another day while we concentrate on these more pressing matters Now, if you will excuse me, I am just going to review my notes.” Without waiting to hear my response, he turned and padded up the carpeted stairs Mr Buckland looked as if he might the same, but he was slower and kinder, and he took a moment to say, “I should be delighted to talk with you another time, Miss Philpot Perhaps I could call around one day next week?” “But sir,” Johnny broke in, “Monsieur Cuvier thinks the plesiosaurus is a fake!” That stopped Reverend Conybeare’s retreating back He turned on the stairs “What did you say?” Johnny, the clever boy, had said just the right thing Of course the men did not want to hear about Mary It was Cuvier’s opinion of the plesiosaurus that would concern them “Baron Cuvier believes that the plesiosaurus Mary found cannot be real,” I explained as Reverend Conybeare descended the stairs and rejoined us, his face grim “The neck has too many vertebrae, and he believes it violates the fundamental laws that govern the anatomy of vertebrates.” Reverend Conybeare and Mr Buckland exchanged glances “Cuvier has suggested the Annings created a false animal by adding a sea serpent’s skull to the body of an ichthyosaurus He claims they are forgers,” I added, bringing the discussion to what concerned me most Then I wished I hadn’t, for seeing the expressions my words ignited on the men’s faces Both registered surprise, giving way to a degree of suspicion, more prominent in Reverend Conybeare’s case, but also apparent even in Mr Buckland’s benign features “Of course you know that Mary would never do such a thing,” I reminded them “She is an honest soul, and trained—by your good selves, I might add—in the importance of preserving specimens as they are found She knows they are of little use if tampered with.” “Of course,” Mr Buckland agreed, his face clearing, as if all he needed was a prompt from a sensible mind Reverend Conybeare was still frowning, however Clearly my reminder had