As a preliminary he threw open both windows and removed his jacket and waistcoat. Then he lighted a pipe and settled down to arrange his thoughts. He had not been meditating for more than ten minutes when his wife came in.
"The milkman's account, Charles," she said. "Can you settle it now?"
"Certainly, my dear," replied the vicar, unlocking his cash-box. "It's extremely hot this morning, isn't it?"
"It is," agreed Mrs. Peters, waiting for the money. "But, Charles——"
"Yes, my dear?"
"Do you think it quite seemly to be writing your sermon in shirt-sleeves?"
"It's extremely hot, Clara."
"Yes. But a sermon, Charles!"
The vicar laughed.
"Would you have me write it behind stained-glass windows, with incense burning round me?"