“I’ll leave it entirely to you, Mr. Torp,” he pronounced with equal gravity, as he bade him goodbye. “I’m surprised Redfern hasn’t been content with all you’ve done for him. I assure you I shall be! But we’ll hope that empty stone will have to wait a long time yet⁠ ⁠… for Gerda’s sake! Well, goodbye, Mr. Torp. I won’t forget your warning, though. I’ll fight shy of ‘murders and sudden deaths’!”

He walked off along Chequers Street, chuckling rather grimly. Absurd though it all was, he was superstitious enough not to be able to treat that drunken chatter at Farmer’s Rest with the contempt it deserved.