Mr. Cuss Interviews the Stranger
carried his hat in his hand. She stood behind the door, looking at the open door of the parlour. Then she heard the stranger laughing quietly, and then his footsteps came across, the room. She could not see his face where she stood. The parlour door slammed, and the place was silent again.
Cuss went straight up the village to Bunting the vicar. "Am I mad? " Cuss began abruptly, as he entered the shabby little study. "Do I look like an insane person?"
"What's happened?" said the vicar, putting the ammonite on the loose sheets of his forthcoming sermon.
"That chap at the inn—"
"Well?"
"Give me something to drink," said Cuss, and he sat down.
When his nerves had been steadied by a glass of cheap sherry,—the only drink the good vicar had available,—he told him of the interview he had just had. "Went in," he gasped, " and began to demand a subscription for that Nurse Fund. He 'd stuck his hands in his pockets as I came in, and he sat down lumpily in his chair.
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