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 Oswald wanted to see the walls, because he likes the story of St. Alphege and the Danes.

"Well, well," said the lady, and she put on her hat; it was a really sensible one—not a blob of fluffy stuff and feathers put on sideways and stuck on with long pins, and no shade to your face, but almost as big as ours, with a big brim and red flowers, and black strings to tie under your chin to keep it from blowing off.

Then we went out all together to see Canterbury. Dicky and Oswald took it in turns to carry Denny on their backs. The lady called him "The Wounded Comrade."

We went first to the church. Oswald, whose quick brain was easily aroused to suspicions, was afraid the lady might begin talking in the church, but she did not. The church door was open. I remember mother telling us once it was right and good for churches to be left open all day, so that tired people could go in and be quiet, and say their prayers if they wanted to. But it does not seem respectful to talk out loud in church. (See Note A.)

When we got outside the lady said: "You can imagine how on the chancel steps began the mad struggle in which Becket, after hurling one of his assailants, armor and all, to the ground—"

"It would have been much cleverer," H. O. interrupted, "to hurl him without his armor, and leave that standing up."

"Go on," said Alice and Oswald, when they had given H. O. a withering glance. And the