As he passed me I reached out my hand and touched his shoulder.

'Mister Hyde, I think?' I asked him.

He turned and shrank from me with all the hissing and arching of a startled cat. However, his alarm was only momentary, and he relaxed so quickly that I could almost believe that I had imagined his initial reaction.

He would not meet my gaze but he answered coolly enough: 'That is my name. What do you want?'

'I see you are going in,' I returned. 'I am an old friend of Doctor Jekyll's - Mister Utterson of Gaunt Street -- you must have heard my name; and meeting you so conveniently, I thought you might admit me.'

'You will not find Doctor Jekyll; he is from home,' he replied, fidgeting.

He held the key up, and blew into the open end of its barrel as if to dislodge some dirt. 'How did you know me?' he asked with a snap.

I chose not to answer, but instead continued with the speech which I had rehearsed so many times in my head while maintaining my vigil. 'On your side, will you do me a favour?'

'With pleasure,' replied the other. 'What shall it be?'

'Will you let me see your face?'