The bell rang. Mr Prendergast jumped to his feet, straightened his wig and steadied himself gravely against the chimneypiece.
'There's a good chap, said Grimes gently. 'Just you trot down the passage to the little boys and have a good nap.
Singing quietly to himself, Mr Prendergast sauntered down the passage.
'I hope he's none the worse for this, said Grimes. 'You know, I feel quite fatherly towards old Prendy. He did give it to that blackamoor about Church architecture, bless him.
Arrn in arm they went down the main avenue towards the inn.
'Mrs Beste‑Chetwynde asked me to call on her in London, said Paul.
'Did she? Well, just you go. I've never been much of a one for society and the smart set myself, but if you like that sort of thing, Mrs Beste‑Chetwynde is the goods all right. Never open a paper but there's a photograph of her at some place or other.
'Does she photograph well? asked Paul. 'I should rather think that she would.
Grimes looked at him narrowly. 'Fair to middling. Why the sudden interest?
'Oh, I don't know. I was just wondering.