I first entered service with Doctor Jekyll in 1862 as footman. I was twenty-five years old, and it was not my first position. Maybe I remember it too fondly, but I think he liked me immediately, and I have enjoyed working for him. He takes such good care of his staff, and of his patients, it would be churlish to not be grateful. He is a fine man and those things that a man in my position may learn about the private face of their master is not for me to say. He is a fine man.

Over recent months the doctor had had me travelling over much of the city, tracking down powders for some experiment he was trying. At the end of the week, he sent me to one of his suppliers where I had purchased a four-pound bag of one such powder. He was excited when I delivered it to him, and I gathered that this represented the end of his long search. I still did not know what he was searching for, and it was not my place to ask. He stayed for the rest of that day, and yesterday, in his cabinet, and I left his meals outside on a tray.