This gentleman, seated upon an upturned bucket, was studying a hymn-book through a pair of horn-rimmed spectacles.
“God bless you, sah,” he said in the loud unmistakable voice of a joyous Christian.
The gardener thanked him.
“I see, Mr. Hamilton, that you told the police you had two married daughters whose husbands had been killed by the earthquake, and seven grandchildren dependent on you.”
“Yessah. De Lawd giveth, an’ de Lawd taketh away.”
“Certainly. And you had an emergency grant of several loaves of bread on Monday.”
“Praise be to God, sah, I did. De Lawd giveth——”
“On the contrary, in this case it was Mr. Tring that gave. Now, are either of your married daughters or any of your grandchildren at home?”
“No, sah. Dey all gone to chapel.”
“Really? Now there seems to be an idea among your neighbours that you live by yourself. How is it they have never noticed your two daughters and seven grandchildren?”