They disappeared around the corner of the gaol wall and he turned in the opposite direction and started to walk towards his appartment. The cold air was not really moving, there was not even a breeze, so the cold air just seemed to settle hard on his shoulders, like a wet blanket, and naturally he had not worn a coat.
He was crossing the last part of the road - the junction between town and the block which included his flat - when he realised that there was someone watching him, and more to the point this watcher was not burdened with good intentions.
“Who’s there?”
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