He was running a horrible risk and all for a whim.

What business had he to be mixing himself up in things he did not understand?
It might be a huge mistake, and then he would be a laughing stock; for a moment he repented his telegram to Mr.Caw.

Then he recanted that suspicion; there could be no mistake, except the fatal one that he had taken on a job too big for him.

He sat on the edge of the bed and shivered with his eyes on the grey drift of rain.

He would have felt more stout-hearted had the sun been shining.
He shuffled to the window and looked out.