“It’s one that you must get through, not an honour examination.”
“I’m so glad I met you. You’ve relieved my mind immensely. I was afraid it might be an indictable offence. Without your help I should never have guessed!”
The Archdeacon looked at me suspiciously.
“I hope she’ll pass,” he said, “but I’m rather doubtful.”
“Oh, she’ll pass all right, she and Hilda. Selby-Harrison may possibly be stuck.”
“She’s very weak in astronomy.”
“Still,” I said, “the Puffin is a perfect lamb. I think we may count on that.”
The Archdeacon eyed me even more suspiciously than before. I could see that he thought I had been drinking heavily.
“Titherington told me that about the Puffin,” I said. “He wanted to bail her out. He’ll be just as glad as I am when he hears the truth.”
The Archdeacon held out his hand stiffly. I do not blame him in the least for wanting to get away from me. A church dignitary has to consider appearances, and it does not do to stand talking to an intoxicated man in a public street, especially early in the day.