"But you've seen him, you. Answer me. Have you seen him?"
"Sometimes, in the dark . . . at night. Never by daylight. His orders come on little scraps of paper . . . or by telephone."
"His name?"
"I don't know it. We never used to speak of him. It was unlucky."
"He dresses in black, doesn't he?"
"Yes, in black. He is short and slender . . . with fair hair. . . ."
"And he kills, doesn't he?"
"Yes, he kills . . . he kills where another might steal a bit of bread."
His voice shook. He entreated:
"Let us stop this . . . it won't do to talk of him. . . . I tell you . . . it's unlucky."