Excerpt: Jimmy Logan stood his skis in the corner behind the door and, tramping heavily to get the clinging snow from his shoes, climbed the first flight in Trow Hall slowly and then dragged wearied feet down the corridor to Number 19. Once inside the room, he said, ?Hello,? shied his cap onto his bed and sank exhaustedly in the nearest chair, stretching his legs across the rug and slumping down u...