"Folks, we live in a shadowy world, full of unanswered questions: "why is a legitimate coal merchant like TheStranger in the mafia" or "what form of incandescent lunacy was that recent competition" or "where is Yorkshire"

Many of these questions are easy to answer.

But many questions are not.

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Can you recall a street speech but don't remember who gave it?

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TheStranger lurks in the shadows mysteriously, his presence only known to the scurrying rats that hurriedly run from one alleyway trash bin to another, searching for bounty. TheStranger studies the rats, their behaviors, their instincts. TheStranger had read many books on rats, along with other books such as chemistry and ancient leaders and warlords. He believed that one’s knowledge must include a wide array of subjects. His thoughts are distracted when he hears his name being called out in the streets. He directs his attention to the man speaking TheStranger listened from the shadowy shadows.
 

Of course he had questions. He was inquisitive by nature, and spelt a great part of his day writing these questions in his journal. He would write until the wee hours of the morning. He would shut the book and run his fingers across the leather bound cover. He would then fall asleep and meditate on these questions while he dreamt.

A rat scurried past his shiny leather imported shoe. He thought again how the rats thrive in darkness, much like himself. TheStranger chuckled at the irony of his own self-reflection, as while he did share that similarity with the species of rat, he himself was no rat himself. He pondered the silliness of his own thoughts

“Heh!” he said