Jukie is curate in a slummy parish near Covent Garden. He succeeds, apparently, in really being friends--equal and intimate friends--with a lot of the men in his parish, which is queer for a person of his kind. I suppose he learnt how while he was in the ranks. He deserved to; Arthur told me that he had persistently refused promotion because he wanted to go on living with the men; and that's not a soft job, from all accounts, especially for a clean and over-fastidious person like Jukie. Of course he's very popular, because he's very attractive. And, of course, it's spoilt him a little. I never knew a very popular and attractive person who wasn't a little spoilt by it; and in Jukie's case it's a pity, because he's too good for that sort of thing, but it hasn't really damaged him much. He came in that evening saying, 'Katherine, I want to speak to you,' and sat down looking rather worried and solemn. He plunged into it at once, as he always does. 'Have you heard any talk lately about Gideon?' he asked me. 'Nothing more interesting than usual,' I said. 'But I seldom hear talk. I don't mix enough. We don't gossip much in the lab, you know. I look to you and my Fleet Street friends for spicy personal items. What's the latest about Arthur?' 'Just this,' he said. 'People are going about saying that he pushed Hobart downstairs.' I felt then as if I had known all along that of course people were saying that. 'Then why isn't he arrested?' I asked stupidly. 'He probably will be, before long,' said Jukie. 'There's no evidence yet to arrest him on. At present it's merely talk, started by that Pinkerton woman, and sneaking about from person to person in the devilish way such talk does.... I was with Gideon yesterday, and saw two people cut him dead.... You see, it's all so horribly plausible; every one knows they hated each other and had just quarrelled; and it seems he was there that night, just before it happened. He went home with Jane.' I remembered that they had left my place together. But neither Arthur nor Jane had told me that he had gone home with her. 'The inquest said it was accidental,' I said, protesting against something, I didn't quite know what. Jukie shrugged his shoulders. 'That's not very likely to stop people talking.' He added after a moment, 'But it's got to be stopped somehow.... I went to an awful bazaar this afternoon, on purpose to meet that woman. I met her. I spoke to her. I told her to chuck it. She as good as told me she wasn't going to. I mentioned the libel law--she practically dared Gideon to use it against her. She means to go on. She's poisoning the air with her horrible whispers and slanders. Why can't some one choke her? What can we do about it, that's the question? Ought one of us to tell Gideon? I'm inclined to think we ought.' 'Are you sure he doesn't know it already?'