He rang the bell, and in a moment a rotund and loquacious landlady appeared. Yes, the drawing-room was to let; would the reverend gentleman come up and see it? Mr Bunker went up, and approved. They readily agreed upon terms, and the landlady, charmed with her new lodger’s appearance and manners, no less than with the respectability of his profession, proceeded to descant at some length on the quiet, comfort, and numerous other advantages of the apartments.
“Just the very plice you wants, sir. We ’ave ’ad clerical gentlemen ’ere before, sir; in fact, there’s one a-staying ’ere now, second floor,—you may know of ’im, sir,—the Reverend Mr John Duggs; a very pleasant gentleman you’ll find him, sir. I’ll tell ’im you’re ’ere, sir; ’e’d be sure to like to meet another gentleman of the syme cloth, has they say.”
Somehow or other the Rev. Mr Butler failed to display the hearty pleasure at this announcement that the worthy Mrs Gabbon had naturally expected.
Aloud he merely said, “Indeed,” politely, but with no unusual interest.
Within himself he reflected, “The deuce take Mr John Duggs! However, I want the rooms, and a man must risk something.”
As a precautionary measure he visited a second-hand bookseller on his way back, and purchased a small assortment of the severest-looking works on theology they kept [pg 190] in stock; and these, with his slender luggage, he brought round to Mrs Gabbon’s in the course of the afternoon.
He looked carefully out of his sitting-room window, but the doctor’s blinds were still down, and he saw no one coming or going about the house; so he began his inquiries by calling up his landlady.
“I have been troubled with lumbago, Mrs Gabbon,” he began.
“Dearie me, sir,” said Mrs Gabbon, “I’m sorry to ’ear that; you that looks so ’ealthy too! Well, one never knows what’s be’ind a ’appy hexterior, does one, sir?”
“No, Mrs Gabbon,” replied Mr Bunker, solemnly; “one never knows what even a clergyman’s coat conceals.”