Three days have now passed since I awoke in the lower floor of a two-storey house and discovered your letter. You have not revealed yourself – as I hoped you would – but I am now convinced that I am not alone in the building. Each evening following my exploration of the immediate area, I see the curtain shifting but whenever I stand outside and gaze at the windows, the place is as still as it should be. On a side note, my scrutiny has thrown up other details. From a distance, the building had seemed a brick-and-mortar store, but up close it appeared fractional, as if it was an adjunct and some big part had been knocked down and the debris carted off. It reminded me in this respect of a chapter house. These precise observations have convinced me of my former profession, but everything else
