If it is, she shall never hear one word of reproach about the past from me." A day or two later the Bishop of Southminster had a touch of rheumatism, and Doctor Brown attended him.

This momentary malady may possibly account to the reader for an incident which remained to the end of life inexplicable to Mr.Gresley.
Two days after Regie had taken the turn towards health, and on the afternoon of the very same day when Doctor Brown had interviewed the Bishop's rheumatism, the episcopal carriage might have been seen squeezing its august proportions into the narrow drive of Warpington Vicarage; at least, it was always called the drive, though the horses' noses were reflected in the glass of the front-door while the hind-wheels still jarred the gate-posts.
Out of the carriage stepped, not the Bishop, but the tall figure of Dick Vernon, who rang the bell, and then examined a crack in the portico.
He had plenty of time to do so.
"Lord, what fools!" he said, half aloud.

"The crazy thing is shouting out that it is going to drop on their heads, and they put a clamp across the crack.

Might as well put a respirator on a South Sea Islander.

Is Mr.Gresley in?
Well, then, just ask him to step this way, will you?
Look here, James, if you want to be had up for manslaughter, you leave this porch as it is.