He came in and spoke to the porter ...

When I came back from my walk last night I found a card in my letter-box.

It bore the name of the man I want least to meet on God's earth.' I think that the look in my companion's eyes, the sheer naked scare on his face, completed my conviction of his honesty.

My own voice sharpened a bit as I asked him what he did next.
'I realized that I was bottled as sure as a pickled herring, and that there was only one way out.

I had to die.