Mr. Urquhart became silent, but the expression upon his face was like that of some courtly prince-prelate of old times, who desired his subordinate to obey instructions that he was unwilling to put into vulgar speech.

“ Mr. Torp?” repeated Wolf, patiently and interrogatively.

“Just a little matter of a headstone,” went on the other. “Tilly-Valley’s quarrelled with our sexton here. So I’ve had to use Torp as both sexton and undertaker. He has been disgracefully dilatory.” Mr. Urquhart shuffled to the bookcase, leaning heavily on his stick. He changed the position of one or two of the books; and as he did so, with his back to his secretary, he finished his sentence. “He’s been as dilatory about Redfern’s headstone as he was about digging his grave.”