is surplus, an' I wish
I 'ad the job of ironin' it."

Order was restored, but at intervals the girls broke into ripples of
hysterical laughter. Then Chook saw the organ, with its rows of
painted pipes, and nudged Jonah.

"Wot price that fer a mouth-orgin, eh? Yer'd want a extra pair o'
bellows ter play that."

Jonah examined the instrument with the interest of a musician,
surprised by the enormous tubes, packed stiffly in rows, the plaything
of a giant; but he still kept an eye on the pair that were being
married, with the nervous interest of a criminal watching an execution.
The women, to whom weddings were an afternoon's distraction, like the
matinees of the richer, stared about the building. Mrs Yabsley, wedged
with difficulty in the narrow pew, pretended that they were made
uncomfortable on purpose to keep people awake during the sermon.
Presently Ada and Pinkey, who had been examining the memorial tablets
on the walls, began to argue whether the dead people were buried under
the floor of the church. Pinkey decided they were, and shivered at
the thought. Ada called her a fool; they nearly quarrelled.

When their turn came, the Canon advanced to meet them, setting them at
their ease with a few kindly words, less a priest than a courteous host
welcoming his guests. He seemed not to notice Jonah's deformity. But,
as he read the service, he was the priest again, solemn and austere,
standing at the gates of Life and Death. He followed the ritual with
scrupulous detail, scorning to give short measure to the poor. In the
vestry they signed their names with tremendous effort, holding the pen
as if it were a prop. Mrs Yabsley, being no scholar, made a mark. The
Canon left them with an apology, as another party was waiting.

"Rum old card," commented Chook, when they got outside. "I reckon 'e's
a man w'en 'e tucks 'is shirt in."

The party decided to go home by way of Regent Street, drawn by the
sight of the jostling crowd and the glitter of the lamps. As they
threaded their way through the crowd, Jonah stopped in front of a
pawnshop and announced that he was going to buy a present for Ada and
Pinkey to bring them luck. He ignored Ada's cries of admiration at the
sight of a large brooch set with paste diamonds, and fixed on a thin
silver bracelet for her, and a necklace of imitation pearls, the size
of peas, for Pinkey. Ada thrust her fat fingers through the rigid band
of metal; it slipped over the joint