“Why, that’s the village pub, Sir! Haven’t you ever been into it, Sir? But I expect it’s out of your way. It’s out of all decent folks’ way, I reckon. ’Tis down Lenty Lane, Pond Lane, and Dead Badger Lane. ’Tis no great way; and I’m thinking of going round there myself. So if it’s no offense, Mr. Solent, Sir, I thought as maybe ye’d like to have my company.”

He stopped, and in the manner of the discreet servant of a wilful master stared impassively at the wall till his gentleman made his decision.

“I’d like to come with you very much, Roger,” Wolf replied. “But what about tea? I was thinking of dropping in at Pond Cottage.”

“Don’t do that, Sir. Come, as I’m telling ’ee, to Farmer’s Rest and I’ll see to it myself that Miss Bess’ll give you as good a cup o’ tea, and a better, too, than ye’d ever get from that old Dimity’s kitchen. Not but what things be much more decent-like down there, since Miss Smith be living with ’em.”