“Come in, Mr. Torp,” said Wolf helplessly, wondering vaguely what new process of pious science that stark figure upstairs was to expect. “Come in and sit down, will you, while I tell Miss Malakite you’re here?” He let his father-in-law into the house and closed the door. It was easier to tell Mr. Torp to sit down than to give him anything to sit upon. “I don’t know,” he began awkwardly. But Mr. Torp caught him by the sleeve with one of his plump hands.

“It came over I,” he whispered, “that Miss Malakite wouldn’t be wanting one of they arrogant death-women with her Dad. And as I were an undertaker meself afore I took to me stone-job, I thought I’d run round and help she out.”