"Evangelical," snapped Clara. (Yes: there are vicar's wives who snap, and she was one.)
"I don't understand," repeated Robert wearily. Then suddenly a light broke on him, and he laughed. It was his first laugh for five days. "Oh, I see! I don't mean that kind of confession. This is purely a personal matter—man to man."
"In that case, my love, I think——"
"No," said the resolute woman. "I am determined that you shall not be imposed on any longer. I have kept silence, perhaps too long. Mr. Bangs, yesterday I telephoned to Bloomsbury 843B."
"What!" said Robert with a moan. "You telephoned there!"
CHAPTER XXIII
STILL RUNNING
With a glance of triumphant contempt at the bladder she had pricked so easily, Mrs. Peters turned to her husband. "I think, Charles, that I can safely leave you now to hear Mr. Hedderwick's explanation. I have no wish to be present during a painful scene; besides, I am wanted in the larder."
"Mr. Hedderwick!" repeated the vicar blankly. "What do you mean, Clara? I can not understand—I have no idea—you must——"