The two men sat down opposite each other, and Wolf, removing the blue cosy, filled both their cups and handed the bookseller the bread-and-butter.

“I hope you’re ahead in your game,” he said emphatically. “It must be an absorbing game, bowls. It must be one of the most absorbing of all.”

Mr. Malakite put down his cup and moved a long, slender forefinger round its rim.

“Your father and I had many a game on this green,” he said, without raising his eyes.

And Wolf looked at Mr. Malakite with as many confused feelings as he had ever experienced in the presence of one human head. He thought to himself, “Was the man ever ashamed of that white beard when he saw himself in the looking-glass, as he went up to wash his hands between dusting his books and sneaking into his girl’s room?”