‘Kimble, you shouldn’t be here. Just as the clergyman approached the altar, she perceived a boy steal quickly into the church, and ensconce himself behind the woollen-draper, who, in order to carry on his amatory pursuits with greater convenience, and at the same time display his figure (of which he was not a little vain) to the utmost advantage, preferred a standing to a sitting posture. He went in there, and he was in there for a good half hour. These fellows must be right,” he added thoughtfully, “and yet—there’s a mystery somewhere. Slowly and reluctantly she came to realize that Vivie Warren was what is called an “ideal. ” Brendon reappeared, followed by a tall thin man with a stubbly brown moustache and restless grey eyes.
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