“Has this fellow up there,” he said uneasily, jerking his thumb towards the ceiling, “lived in King’s Barton long?”

But Mr. Malakite rose from his chair.

“Come out and see the game, Sir, won’t you? There are people everywhere about us whose existence is no affair of ours. To fuss over them like this clergyman here does is only to share their disease.”

“What disease are you talking about, Mr. Malakite?” asked Wolf, as he followed him into the garden.

The sight of the group of men gathered there so disturbed his attention that he could not be quite sure whether he caught correctly the malignant mumbling that issued from his companion’s lips. “The disease of Life!” was what it sounded like.