He now understood her interest in Taber, as he called himself: habit, a twice-told tale. The doctor smoked his pipe thoughtfully. “You see you do not know how much of truth there is in his story. For nearly thirty years he had lived here in contented loneliness; then youth had to come and fill him with discontent. If you have enjoyed it, please consider leaving a review – it does help so much. Advancing towards the Master, and claiming an audience, which was instantly granted, Jonathan, without much circumlocution, related the sum of the strange story he had just learnt from Wood, omitting nothing except a few trifling particulars, which he thought it politic to keep back; and, with this view, he said not a word of there being any probability of capturing the fugitive, but, on the contrary, roundly asserted that his informant had witnessed that person's escape. Taber? There is a possibility. "Where am I?" she cried, passing her hand across her brow.
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