‘Is it soft, the way you seize me from behind? Parbleu, my heart it is flown from my chest! Boom, boom, it goes, even now. This is the way the old thief brings in all his heavy plunder, which he stows in out-of-the-way holes in his infernal dwelling. He knew what he knew. All the rest of his existence was subordinate to this pursuit; he lived for it, worked for it, kept himself in training for it. ’ He strode to the fireplace behind the leather-topped desk and addressed his own reflection in the mirror, wagging an admonitory finger in his own face.
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