"May I speak to you a minute?" said the strange young man, dropping the "sir." "I'll walk with you as far as the clergy-house if you'll let me."
When they were out of earshot of the house Frank began.
"You're Parham-Carter, aren't you?" he said. "Of Hales'."
The other nodded. (Things were beginning to resolve themselves in his mind.)
"Well, will you give me your word not to tell a soul I'm here, and I'll tell you who I am? You've forgotten me, I see. But I'm afraid you may remember. D'you see?"
"All right."
"I'm Guiseley, of Drew's. We were in the same division once—up to Rawlins. Do you remember?"
"Good Lord! But—"
"Yes, I know. But don't let's go into that. I've not done anything I shouldn't. That's not the reason I'm like this. It's just turned out so. And there's something else I want to talk to you about. When can I come and see you privately? I'm going to begin work to-morrow at the jam factory."