I think?” said Riderhood, pushing a bottle to him across the table.
“No.”
They both lapsed into silence, with their eyes upon the fire.
“You don’t need to be told I am here,” said Bradley at length. “Who is to begin?”
“I’ll begin,” said Riderhood, “when I’ve smoked this here pipe out.”
He finished it with great deliberation, knocked out the ashes on the hob, and put it by.
“I’ll begin,” he then repeated, “Bradley Headstone, Master, if you wish it.”
“Wish it? I wish to know what you want with me.”
“And so you shall.” Riderhood had looked hard at his hands and his pockets, apparently as a precautionary measure lest he should have any weapon about him. But, he now leaned forward, turning the collar of his waistcoat with an inquisitive finger, and asked, “Why, where’s your watch?”