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was a little man with scrubby hair, a small, thin nose sticking out of a face cracked with wrinkles, tight brown gaiters, and a riding whip. "I've come, you see," he said, as Mrs. Hinijer closed the door.

"Thank you," said the Vicar, "I'm obliged to you. I'm really obliged to you."

"Glad to be of any service to you," said Sir John Gotch. (Angular attitude.)

"This business," said the Vicar, "this unfortunate business of the barbed wire—is really, you know, a most unfortunate business."

Sir John Gotch became decidedly more angular in his attitude. "It is," he said.

"This Mr. Angel being my guest—"

"No reason why he should cut my wire," said Sir John Gotch, briefly.

"None whatever."