In response to his “Come in,” a middle-aged gentleman, dressed in clerical attire, entered. He had a broad, bearded face, a dull eye, and an indescribably average aspect.
“The devil! Mr John Duggs himself,” thought Mr Bunker, hastily adopting a more conventional attitude and feeling for his button-holes.
“Ah—er—Mr Butler, I believe?” said the stranger, with an apologetic air.
“The same,” replied Mr Bunker, smiling affably.
“I,” continued his visitor, advancing with more confidence, “am Mr Duggs. I am dwelling at present in the apartment immediately above you, and hearing of the arrival of a fellow-clergyman, through my worthy friend Mrs Gabbon, I have taken the liberty of calling. She gave me to understand that you were not undesirous of making my acquaintance, Mr Butler.”
“The deuce, she did!” thought Mr Butler. Aloud he answered most politely, “I am honoured, Mr Duggs. Won’t you sit down?”
First casting a wary eye upon a chair, Mr Duggs seated himself carefully on the edge of it.
“It is quite evident,” thought Mr Bunker, “that he has spotted something wrong. I believe a bobby would have been safer after all.”
He assumed the longest face he could draw, and remarked sententiously, “The weather has been unpleasantly cold of late, Mr Duggs.”
He flattered himself that his guest seemed instantly more at his ease. Certainly he replied with as much cordiality as a man with such a dull eye could be supposed to display.