The service comes to an end, and the
servitors disperse to breakfast. Mr. Datchery accosts his last new acquaintance
outside, when the Choir (as much in a hurry to get their bedgowns off, as they
were but now to get them on) have scuffled away.
“Well, mistress. Good morning. You have
seen him?”
“I'VE seen him, deary; I'VE seen him!”
“And you know him?”
“Know him! Better far than all the Reverend
Parsons put together know him.”
Mrs. Tope's care has spread a very neat,
clean breakfast ready for her lodger. Before sitting down to it, he opens his
cornercupboard door; takes his bit of chalk from its shelf; adds one thick line
to the score, extending from the top of the cupboard door to the bottom; and
then falls to with an appetite.
[…]