Ruth deliberately laid down her iron, and challenged him: she said nothing.
Mrs. Lewknor felt the tension.
"Well, think it over, will you?" she said to Ruth. "There's no hurry."
She went out and the Colonel followed.
"That man's the biggest humbug unhung even for a Labour man," snapped the little lady viciously. "Preaching the Kingdom of Heaven on earth and then this!"
"I'm not sure," replied the Colonel, "not sure. I think he's much the same as most of us—an honest man who's run off the rails."
They were bicycling slowly along Victoria Drive. On the far side of the allotments right under the wall of the Downs, blue in the evening, a solitary figure was digging.
"The out-cast," said the Colonel.
Mrs. Lewknor dismounted from her bicycle and began wheeling it along the unfenced earthen path between the gardens, towards the digger. Ernie barely looked up, barely answered her salutation, wiping the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand as he continued his labour. The lady retired along the way she had come.
"There's something Christ-like about the feller," said the Colonel quietly as they reached the road.