"A strict Evangelical——!!!"
"I was only joking, Clara," said the vicar quickly. "Of course, I shouldn't dream of——"
"I do not think one should be flippant under such circumstances. Shirt-sleeves and a pipe! My dear Charles——"
The vicar moved a little restlessly.
"My dear Clara, the day's very hot and I'm doing nothing to be ashamed of. If the bishop of London called I'm sure he'd say——"
"Mr. Bangs," said the housemaid at the door, and Robert entered with a troubled mien.
The vicar made a dash for his discarded garments and performed a Protean act with amazing speed. His wife, true to her salt, interposed between her husband and the visitor, making a few banal remarks about the weather. She did not shake hands.
"Excuse me, Mr. Bangs," said the vicar, blushing despite his late assertions of independence. "You find me trying to keep cool under adverse conditions. Had I known——"
"The weather is very sultry, is it not?" said Mrs. Peters, with a glare that said, "I told you so!"
Robert surveyed them with a wild and unreceptive eye. He looked, so thought the vicar's wife, like a man dogged by the officers of the law.