While my brain worked feverishly at this problem, I subconsciously obeyed a secondary instinct⁠—to get as far away as possible from the scene of the crime, and to get rid at all costs of my incriminating uniform. There I found a difficulty. I tried two or three obscure clothes shops, but my entrance invariably aroused an attitude of hostile suspicion in the proprietors, and on one excuse or another they avoided serving me with the now ardently desired change of clothing. The uniform that I had so thoughtlessly donned seemed as difficult to get out of as the fatal shirt of⁠—You know, I forget the creature’s name.”

“Yes, yes,” said the Chaplain hurriedly. “Go on with your story.”