"That's it. Before you ask for credit with the angel Gabriel, you've got to squar' up with Jaspar Panel."
"With the dear Lord's help, Jaspar has found a way," whispered the joyful voice in my ear.
"How much?" demanded Leveson. His colour was coming back.
"We've got to figger on that. Take a pencil an' paper an' sit down."
"This is ridiculous."
"Sit down, you----"
Nathaniel Leveson sat down. The vestry had been used by the contractor as an office; the plain deal table was littered with scraps of paper. Leveson took out a gold pencil-case.
"Married man, ain't ye?" said Uncle Jap, with seeming irrelevance.
"Yes."
"Ever give your wife a ti-airy: diamond crown, sorter?"