He looked ill and physically worn.
"Your business has kept you out late of a night recently, you say, Mr.
Elkin," began the other, speaking as casually as he could contrive.

"Now, it might help a lot if you can call to mind anyone you met on the roads at ten or eleven o'clock.

For instance, last night--" Elkin laughed in a queer, croaking way.
"Last night my mare brought me home.

I was decidedly sprung, Robinson.
Glad you didn't spot me, or there might have been trouble.

What between the inquest, an' no food, an' more than a few drinks at Knoleworth, I'd have passed Owd Ben himself without seeing him, though I believe I did squint in at The Hollies as I went by." "What time would that be ?" "Oh, soon after eleven." "Sure." "I can't be certain to ten minutes or so.