"I saw him!" Williams said, making off. But it was no good. In ten minutes they met at the newsagent's, blank.
"Who was that?" Grant demanded of Mr. Rickett.
"Don't know. Never saw him before as far as I know."
"Is there a monastery here?"
"In Canterbury? No!"
"Well, in the district?"
"Not as I knows."
A woman behind them put down sixpence on the counter. "Goldflake," she said. "You looking for a monastery? There's that brotherhood place in Bligh Vennel. They're by way of being monks. Ropes around their middles and bare heads."
"Where is — what is it? Bligh Vennel?" Grant asked. "Far from here?"
"No. 'Bout two streets. Less as the crow flies, but that won't be much good to you in Canterbury. It's in the lanes behind the Cock and Pheasant. I'd show you myself, if Jim wasn't waiting for his smoke. A sixpenny packet, Mr. Rickett, please."