She
was, comparatively speaking, a new-comer in the
neighbourhood, and was not personally acquainted with her
fellow-worshipper in the seat behind, but for the past two
years the Sunday morning service had brought them regularly
within each other's sphere of consciousness. Without having
paid particular attention to the subject, she could probably
have given a correct rendering of the way in which he
pronounced certain words occurring in the responses, while
he was well aware of the trivial fact that, in addition to
her prayer book and handkerchief, a small paper packet of
throat lozenges always reposed on the seat beside her. Miss
Wepley rarely had recourse to her lozenges, but in case she
should be taken with a fit of coughing she wished to have
the emergency duly provided for. On this particular Sunday
the lozenges occasioned an unusual diversion in the even
tenor of her devotions, far more disturbing to her
personally than a prolonged attack of coughing would have
been. As she rose to take part in the singing of the first
hymn, she fancied that she saw the hand of her neighbour,
who was alone in the pew behind her, make a furtive downward
grab at the packet lying on the seat; on turning sharply
round she found that the packet had certainly disappeared,
but Mr.
Pages:
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250