“But the war?”

“At least the war could not keep me from the sardine grounds.”

“So you poach from choice?”

“Yes. It is in me. I am sorry, but what shall I do? It's in me.”

“And you can’t resist?”

He laughed grimly. “Go and call in the hounds from the stag’s throat!”

Presently I said:

“You have been in jail?”

“Yes,” he replied, indifferently.

“For poaching?”