Selby had finished supper and repaired to a bench outside in the gloaming with his pipe and a mug of beer. The old stained chancel windows of the church beyond the river were lit up and choir practice appeared to be in progress. The drone of the organ and voices uplifted in familiar harmonies drifted across to him out of the dusk. The pool below the bridge still mirrored the last gleams of day in the sky: a few old men were leaning over the low parapet smoking, and down the street one or two villagers stood gossiping at their doorsteps. A dog came out of the shadows and sniffed Selby’s hands: then he flopped down in the warm dust and sighed to himself. The strains of the organ on the other side of the valley swelled louder:— "... Holy Ghost the Infinite, Comforter Divine..." sang the unseen choir. How warm and peaceful the evening was, reflected Selby, puffing at his pipe, one hand caressing the dog’s ear. Extraordinarily peaceful, in fact.... He wondered what sort of a man the vicar was, in this tiny backwater of life, and whether he found it dull.... While he wondered, the vicar came down the road and stopped abreast of him. "Good evening," he said, half hesitating, and came nearer. "Please don’t get up.... I don’t want to disturb you, but I—they told me this afternoon that a stranger was staying here. I thought I would make myself known to you: I am the rector of this little parish." He smiled and named himself. Selby responded to the introduction. "Won’t you sit down for a few minutes? I was listening to your choir——" "They are practising—yes: I have just come down from the church and," he hesitated. "I hoped I should find you in—to have the opportunity of making your acquaintance." "It was most kind of you." Selby wondered if all parsons in this fair country were as attentive to the stranger within their gates. "Most kind," he repeated. "I—I was on a walking tour, and"—he indicated a slipper of his host’s that adorned his left foot—"one of my heels began to chafe—only a blister, you know; but I thought I’d take things easy for a day or two.... "Quite so, quite so. An enforced rest is sometimes very pleasant. I remember once, my throat.... However, that was not what I came to see you about. I believe, Mr Selby, er—am I right in supposing that you are in the Navy?" "Yes." A note of chilliness had crept into Selby’s voice. After all, his clerical acquaintance was only an inquisitive old busybody, agog to pry into other people’s affairs. "Yes," he repeated, "I’m a Lieutenant," and he named his ship.