‘ Sit at the other end to me .’
I moved away and sat down , a length of table separating us .
‘ I ’ m Hyde ,’ he said . ‘ The minister of war ?’
‘ The very same .’ He swigged from his bottle , spilling liquid on his fine suit .
‘ I don ’ t think the Prime Minister is taking visitors at this hour ,’ I said .
He smiled at me . A big , toothy smile . This was the smile a sheep sees before it is devoured by the wolf . ‘ That is fine ,’ he said . ‘ I am just stopping for a drink before I retire . I often do it . I would have thought that cook would have let you know .’
I shook my head .
‘ Me and her will have to talk about that , next time we meet .’ He drank some more and kept his eyes on me .
‘ Have you met Jekyll ?’ ‘ I have , sir .’
‘ A man made from paper looking constantly afraid of a breeze .’
‘ That sounds a little unfair , sir .’
‘ It was what they wrote about him in The Times today . Actually , they wrote it , but it was a quote from Sir Danvers Carew . A constant thorn in my side , that man .’
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