Over an hour later, Hawkes abruptly shut his book and stood. I looked up, expecting a thank you. Instead, he said, “You need another chair. Here, by the fireplace.” “Why is that?” Hawkes waited a moment, as if an obvious thing was before me. When I said nothing, he tilted his head ever so slightly. “Islington, Pierce, Hawkes, and Lion.” And without another word he was into the hall and out the front door.
Stop I’m gonna cry
