“He knows much less than he thinks he does.”

“Everyone keeps telling me that.”

“Because it keeps being true.

Now.

I have to call a man who doesn’t like to be woken up, and there’s a chance he’s in the Alps with his telephone off, so I’ll do my best, and you’ll hear from me before morning.”

I put the receiver down and sat with the dead line.

The study smelled of woodsmoke and old magazines.

Through the window I could see the gravel drive, and beyond it the hedgerow, and on the far side of the hedgerow the road to town.