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           Ihaddrawnagoodsumingoldfromthebanktwodaysbefore,incaseScuddershouldwantmoney,andItookfiftypoundsofitinsovereignsinabeltwhichIhadbroughtbackfromRhodesia.ThatwasaboutallIwanted.ThenIhadabath,andcutmymoustache,whichwaslonganddrooping,intoashortstubblyfringe.

           Nowcamethenextstep.Paddockusedtoarrivepunctuallyat7.30andlethimselfinwithalatch-key.Butabouttwentyminutestoseven,asIknewfrombitterexperience,themilkmanturnedupwithagreatclatterofcans,anddepositedmyshareoutsidemydoor.IhadseenthatmilkmansometimeswhenIhadgoneoutforanearlyride.Hewasayoungmanaboutmyownheight,withanill-nourishedmoustache,andheworeawhiteoverall.OnhimIstakedallmychances.

           Iwentintothedarkenedsmoking-roomwheretheraysofmorninglightwerebeginningtocreepthroughtheshutters.ThereIbreakfastedoffawhisky-and-sodaandsomebiscuitsfromthecupboard.Bythistimeitwasgettingonforsixo’clock.Iputapipeinmypocketandfilledmypouchfromthetobaccojaronthetablebythefireplace.

           AsIpokedintothetobaccomyfingerstouchedsomethinghard,andIdrewoutScudder’slittleblackpocket-book....

           Thatseemedtomeagoodomen.Iliftedtheclothfromthebodyandwasamazedatthepeaceanddignityofthedeadface.“Goodbye,oldchap,”Isaid;“Iamgoingtodomybestforyou.Wishmewell,whereveryouare.”

           ThenIhungaboutinthehallwaitingforthemilkman.