"At the Black Lion in our street," replied Jack, without hesitation. ” “I’m sorry. Happy Birthday, then. ’ ‘Captain Roding, sir,’ put in Gerald, adding on a jocular note, ‘Another of the green whippersnappers you had to contend with some years back. He stopped on the curb-stone, not facing her but as if he was on his way to cross the road, and spoke to her suddenly over his shoulder. Manning at last broke down by coming directly at her as she talked with the vicar’s aunt about some of the details of the alleged smell of the new church lamps. She stopped abruptly at the sound of his voice, and lost the thread of what she was saying. Soot was everywhere, for the lamp would not stay trimmed in the gale. It is the old story of a Westerner meddling with an Eastern custom. I will pray for you.
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