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Any man might have endeavoured to protect himself in this fashion, a man with no one to care, with an unnameable terror at the thought (as if it mattered!) of being buried in alien earth, far from the familiar places he loved. . Gerald stood quite still for a moment or two, listening intently. The little girl uttered no remonstrance; but, replacing the flowers in the basket, burst into tears, and withdrew. Gerald’s voice came back to her, saying that she could not hope to outwit “a man who means business”. Here a little delay occurred. Mrs. “David Courtlaw!” she repeated. “I suppose he’s frightfully clever,” said Miss Klegg. He put down his hat and umbrella, rested his hands on his hips, and regarded Ann Veronica firmly. And they never talked of anything at all, never discussed, never even encouraged gossip. “I don’t care what any one thinks,” said Ann Veronica. Clergymen were human. About the Abbey and Abingdon Street stood the outer pickets and detachments of the police, their attention all directed westward to where the women in Caxton Hall, Westminster, hummed like an angry hive.
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