My hair and beard were white, and I wore thick glasses.

I felt I need be under no apprehension of Robert Turold recognizing me--then, or at any time, unless I was careless.
"His request for my help had a strange fascination for me.

There was an uncanny thrill in sitting there within an arm's length of him, meeting his unsuspicious glance, and listening to him with the knowledge that I could have put his plans and ambitions to flight with a single word, and had him begging for mercy.

I was in the position of Providence, and withheld my hand, as Providence generally does.

My desire to punish Robert Turold had long since died.