He was sipping a glass of cold gin and water, and smoking a short black pipe. ’ Kimble’s widening gaze told its own tale, but still he kept his fingers on the handle of the door. ’ ‘Ah, you know about that, then?’ ‘That much, yes. I have a weapon—a knife—and if you attempt to open the door, will plunge it to my heart. “It isn’t fair. You poor man, what have you been doing to yourself?” “Nothing except travelling all night,” he answered. “Please come home. This was occasioned by Jonathan Wild, who was seen to mount his horse and join the train. But I do not know you at all, in truth, and I do not understand why you do this. ’ He bowed.
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