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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Andrew D. Gable" data-source="post: 1555550" data-attributes="member: 4144">If I were a tailor I'd make it my prideThe best of all tailors to beAnd if I were a tinker, no tinker besideShould mend an old kettle like me.~English folk-rhymeJuly 1893Ahh, summer!  Mr. Aiolos Shaw, Rev. Andrew B. Miller, Inspector Jamison O. Diggory, and Dr. Richard Hewitt, all survivors of the events of the Pellgraine Tragedy, had just attended a splendid cricket game near Chiswick.  The fifth of their number, Trevor MacAllistair, the Baron Walsingham, was at his townhouse in Westminster recuperating from the great shock he'd received at the house in Loughton.  The four men were sitting at the Chiswick Station, awaiting the train back to London.  A tall gentleman in a dark suit, wearing a bowler hat, with small glasses and a large handlebar mustache, carrying a briefcase, approaches.  Nodding at the men genially, he sits himself down on one of the provided benches, looking about from time to time.  Occasionally he reaches into his pocket and withdraws a silver pocketwatch.</blockquote>