The man who believes he has not is an arrant fool.

There is no man breathing who has not an enemy, from the pauper in the workhouse to the king in his automobile.

But the unseen enemy is always the more dangerous; hence my deep apprehensive reflections that day as I walked those sordid back streets "over the water," as the Cockney refers to the district between those two main arteries of traffic, the Waterloo and Westminster Bridge Roads.
My unknown enemies had secured the services of Olinto in their dastardly plot to kill me.

With what motive?
I wondered as I crossed Waterloo Bridge to the Strand, whether Olinto Santini would again approach me and make the promised explanation.

I had given my word not to prejudge him until he revealed to me the truth.