The fire burned in the grate; a
lamp was set lighted on the chimney shelf, for even in the houses
the fog began to lie thickly; and there, close up to the warmth,
sat Dr. Jekyll, looking deathly sick. He did not rise to meet his
visitor, but held out a cold hand and bade him welcome in a
changed voice.
"And now," said Mr. Utterson, as soon as Poole had left them,
"you have heard the news?"
The doctor shuddered. "They were crying it in the square," he
said. "I heard them in my dining-room."
"One word," said the lawyer. "Carew was my client, but so are
you, and I want to know what I am doing. You have not been mad
enough to hide this fellow?"
"Utterson, I swear to God," cried the doctor, "I swear to God
I will never set eyes on him again. I bind my honour to you that
I am done with him in this world. It is all at an end. And
indeed he does not want my help; you do not know him as I do; he
is safe, he is quite safe; mark my words, he will never more be
heard of."
The lawyer listened gloomily; he did not like his friend's
feverish manner. "You seem pretty sure of him," said he; "and for
your sake, I hope you may be right. If it came to a trial, your
name might appear.
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