“I do not wish to,” I said.
“That is your choice,” Mr Carmichael told me. “You may change your mind. I will give you due warning before I return.” He stepped back, giving a brief bow. “I promise that I shall never intentionally do anything to discomfort you.”
“Thank you, Mr Carmichael,” I replied gravely, with a small nod. I believed him. Despite his dreadful occupation, Mr Carmichael seemed an honourable man.
“One hour then,” Mr Carmichael repeated. He left then, striding long-legged and back erect into the rain. I waited for a few moments, as the fire crackled in front of me, and made my decision. It was supremely uncomfortable sitting in wet clothes, so I nervously peeled off my thin summer coat and held it in front of the fire. When the steam rose, I realised that it was my inner cl
