I had put Gresson off the scent.

I had found out what Bullivant wanted to know, and I had only to return unostentatiously to London to have won out on the game.
I told myself all that, but it didn't cheer my spirits.

I was feeling mean and hunted and very cold about the feet.
But I have a tough knuckle of obstinacy in me which makes me unwilling to give up a thing till I am fairly choked off it.

The chances were badly against me.

The Scottish police were actively interested in my movements and would be ready to welcome me at my journey's end.