He had scarcely found it, however, when the house-door behind him opened and a hurly-burly of voices reached him.

“But you’ve not even finished your soup!”⁠ ⁠… “You’ve only had one glass!”⁠ ⁠… “You might wait till Dimity has brought⁠—”

His first idea was that these cries were intended for himself; but as he wavered there, in puzzled indecision, there came hurrying down the path, like a stray dog bolting for home, the agitated figure of T. E. Valley. The little priest was struggling into his overcoat as he ran, and repeating, “I’ve had all I want! I’ve had all I want!”

“Good night, Wolf! Take care of him, for heaven’s sake!” rang out Darnley’s voice from the door, as the two men emerged into Pond Lane. They saw the light vanish away. They heard the door close. They were once more alone together.