ough for my varicose veins, in the
legs, sir. You might almost have guessed I had 'em, sir, from the kind
way you told me to sit down, sir. And I was just wondering how I should
break it to Milcher, sir, because me passing St. Nicodemus made me think
of him--not as I'm not always thinking of him--and I looked up at the
clock--you know it's the only 'luminated church clock in the district,
sir, and the clock was just on eleven, sir, and I waited for it to
strike, sir, and it didn't strike. My feet was rooted to the spot, sir,
but no, that clock didn't strike, and then all of a sudden it rushed
over me about that young woman asking me all about the tower and the
clock and telling me as her young man was so interested in church-towers
and he wanted to go up, and would I lend her the keys of the tower-door
because Milcher always gives me the bunch of church-keys to keep for him
while he goes into the Horse and Groom public-house, sir, him not caring
to take church keys into a public-house. He's rather particular, sir.
They are, especially when they're sacristans. It rushed over me, and I
says to myself, 'Bolsheviks,' and I thought I should have swounded, but
I didn't."

Mr. Prohack had to make an effort in order to maintain his self-control,
for the mumblings of the fat lady were producing in him the most
singular and the most disturbing sensations.

"If there's any tea left in the pot," said he, "I think I'll have it."

"_And_ welcome, sir," replied the fat lady. "But there's only one cup.
But I have but hardly drunk out of it, sir."

Mr. Prohack first of all went to the door, transferred the key from the
outside to the inside, and locked the door. Then he drank the dregs of
the tea out of the sole cup; and seeing a packet of Mr. Brool's Gold
Flake cigarettes on the mahogany sideboard, he ventured to help himself
to one.

"Yes, sir," resumed the fat lady. "I nearly swounded, and I couldn't
feel happy no more until I'd made a clean breast of it all to Milcher.
And I was setting off for Milcher when it struck me all of a heap as I'd
promised the young lady with the turned-up nose as I wouldn't say
nothing about the keys to nobody. It was very awkward for me, sir, me
being converted and anxious to do right, and not knowing which was right
and which was wrong. But a promise is a promise whether you're converted
or not--that I do hold. Anyhow I says to myself I must see Milcher and
tell him the clock hadn't struck eleven,