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203 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1971
Wexford gave a tiny sigh, the outward and audible sign of an inward and outraged scream. ‘I don’t believe it,’ he said thinly. ‘Just enlighten me as to which one of you two intellectuals is acquainted with George Eliot.’ Far from living up to Monkey’s image of a man intimidated by the police, Mr Casaubon had brightened as soon as Wexford spoke and now rejoined in thick hideous cockney, ‘I see him once. Strangeways it was, 1929. They done him for a big bullion job.’ ‘I fear,’ Wexford said distantly, ‘that we cannot be thinking of the same person. - Inspector Wexford reacts upon being introduced to blackmailer 'Mr. Casaubon' by small-time crook Monkey Matthews. Mr. Casaubon is otherwise the name of a character in George Eliot’s (penname of Mary Ann Evans (1819-1880)) novel Middlemarch.

Night is a time for conjecture, dreams, mad conclusions; morning a time for action.
Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth,
[......] these rebel powers that thee array,
Why dost thou pine within and suffer dearth,
Painting thy outward walls so costly gay?
Why so large cost, having so short a lease,
Dost thou upon thy fading mansion spend?
Shall worms, inheritors of this excess,
Eat up thy charge? Is this thy body's end?
Then soul, live thou upon thy servant's loss
And let that pine to aggravate thy store;
Buy terms divine in selling hours of dross;
Within be fed, without be rich no more.
So shalt thou feed on Death, that feeds on men,
And, Death once dead, there's no more dying then.

This is the one with the missing small boy, and we learn about Burden's sad widower status.