"I met him at the lodge gates. Oldish man, grey whiskers, mouth like a trap."
"That's him, sir."
"It's a coincidence, certainly. The more remarkable, I guess, because Meriton nowadays is not much infested with parsons. 'Wonder who he was, and what he wanted?"
"He would not give his name, sir. He wanted the address."
"You gave it to him?"
"I did not, sir."
"Was he annoyed?"
"He was, sir; very much annoyed. He said words to himself, which unless
I'm mistaken—"
Matters paused.
Parson Chichester laughed.