the smuggler’s bible

Humphrey

Frost is thick upon the windows of the shabby little houses in the lower quarter. Humphrey tramps along, fading dimly and reappearing in turn under the flickering street lamps.

There is a subtle art to such solitary existence. You must have methods of insinuation; likewise evasion. A good excuse is vital. Have someplace in mind in case they ask. You might be going there. You might be going anywhere.

Most important is to have something inside to keep off the cold. Fond memories will do in a pinch, but (of course) the warmest coals scorch the one who holds them.