"And you got the clergyman?"
I nodded.
"Up-stairs right now?"
"Yes."
"In the attic?"
"That's where he is."
Charlie returned the hat to its peg. Then he took off his overcoat, disclosing a faultless evening dress, for the theatre was our objective point that night.
"What kind of a cove is this parson?" he enquired carelessly.
"He's about your age," said I.
"Nice?"