"How did you get here?
How did you get away ?" Again his keen eyes searched hers.
"As for getting away," he said, slowly, "when a Prophet has a Precursor, he should be able to arrange these things.

Five o'clock is a dull hour at Hellier Crescent.

The Arch-Mystics are perusing the Scitsym; the Precursor is guarding the sacred threshold of the Prophet; the Prophet is--presumably--communing with his Soul.

The routine of this evening differs in no way from the routine of any other evening--except that the Precursor is rather more than usually vigilant in his watch." Again the forced flippancy was apparent; and to Enid, staring at him with wide, perplexed eyes, there was something inexplicable and alarming in this new and unfamiliar attitude.

With a tremor of foreboding, her glance travelled over his face.
"Has anything happened ?" she asked.