It was a photograph that I had never had taken.
"I stared at it again and again.

It seemed to me to be touched up a good deal; it was glazed as well as framed, and the glass blurred some of the details.

But there unmistakably was my face, my eyes, my nose and mouth, my head and hand, posed for a professional photographer.

And I had never posed so for any photographer.
"'Be'old the bloomin' miracle,' said the man with the revolver, with ill-timed facetiousness.

'Parson, prepare to meet your God.' And with this he slid the glass out of the frame.