Finally an elderly lady with silvery hair came up the aisle to where the poorly-clad girl was sitting. As soon as she caught sight of her she raised a pair of gold pince-nez and gazed at her to see if she were really there. When she found out that she was there she stood very straight and a look of extreme hauteur spread over her patrician features. Without saying anything she went back and brought the verger, and he explained somewhat brusquely that those were not the free seats. So the girl got up and came out, and the lady went in and knelt down and prayed. The verger conducted the girl to where the two young men were sitting. It was by now the only available seat, as this service seemed exceedingly popular. She sat down, and one of the young men coughed. The organ had just struck up in a jovial key, but not too loud, as the congregation didn’t like it, and the choir began to appear. There was a great number of them, boys and men, and five clergymen followed. As they came the congregation rose, and when they knelt the congregation knelt, and then they all sat down and waited for the organ to finish, which it did in due course. Then they all rose, and the clergyman said, “Enter not into judgment with thy servant, O Lord! for in thy sight shall no man living be justified.” Plucritus, who by this time had moved into the central aisle and stood gazing about, now wrote down something in his note-book. I looked to see what it was. It seemed to be just one word—“Evasion.” I think there was nothing more. Next began the exhortation, and he walked slowly back and forwards up the aisle, with his head bent. He could see better that way; he had a knack of looking out of the corners of his eyes, which at times is startling to those who do not expect it. When the exhortation was over all knelt down, except one man who was lolling in his seat. Plucritus went up very slowly and quietly and stood beside him for a second or two, bending his head till his cheek nearly touched the fair hair. Then he drew back and wrote something, and his lips curled up into that curious smile of his. I looked to see what he had written, but he closed the book with a sharp click and turned round laughing. No one noticed it. “That was a private memorandum,” he said.