The detective kept them in view. He made his way casually along the inside of the shelter until he reached an open scuttle close to where the two men were standing talking. Eavesdropping was not a thing Larard would have practised from choice, but there were times when, in the public interest, he had to do it, and this was one of them.
‘I figured that all this Sarf London wideboy bit was just smoke.’
The workshop with its smithy is still intact, also the loading stage where the narrow-gauge wagons tipped their contents into those of the G.W.R.
If his flock did any reading at all, they would be more likely to read the epitomists rather than the authors whom we consider first-rate such as Livy, Sallust or Tacitus.
