Everett’s gaze dropped to the papers in his hand. It might be that the boy had taken one drink too many, or someone had given him knock-out drops. I suppose my creed is, ‘I believe rather indistinctly in God the Father Almighty, substratum of the evolutionary process, and, in a vein of vague sentimentality that doesn’t give a datum for anything at all, in Jesus Christ, His Son. And in those days, too, he used to help her mother with her gardening, and hover about her while she stood on the ladder and hammered creepers to the scullery wall. "Thank you," she said, and left the office.
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