Sir Walter awaited me in a dusky dining-room where a little round table was lit with silver candles. The sight of him⁠—so respectable and established and secure, the embodiment of law and government and all the conventions⁠—took me aback and made me feel an interloper. He couldn’t know the truth about me, or he wouldn’t treat me like this. I simply could not accept his hospitality on false pretences.

“I’m more obliged to you than I can say, but I’m bound to make things clear,” I said. “I’m an innocent man, but I’m wanted by the police. I’ve got to tell you this, and I won’t be surprised if you kick me out.”

He smiled. “That’s all right. Don’t let that interfere with your appetite. We can talk about these things after dinner.”