Wolf looked across the table at him. “Yes, now’s the moment to do it,” he repeated to himself. As he made this decision, he thought of Bob Weevil, dressed in his smart suit, sitting with Gerda in their parlour. “They’ll never go for a walk,” he thought, “in this bitter wind.”

The whole library seemed full just then of a nipping air; and he noticed that both Jason and his host began turning up their coat-collars. But the cold was rapidly sobering them. That was one good thing! It was certainly the moment to do it now; for the Squire’s expression had an ironical aplomb that indicated the return of sobriety, and Jason had poured out apparently all his reservoir of black bile.