Manning might go on now idealizing her as much as he liked. He beheld the grey tower of Willesden Church, embosomed in its grove of trees, now clothed, in all the glowing livery of autumn. No amount of scrubbing could remove the stains, the blood of an unknown man she had stolen from the scene of a car accident, a stupid drunk with no license who had wrapped his Chevy truck around a very large oak tree. "It happened, gentlemen," pursued the Master, "on a particular occasion, about the time I've mentioned, that the Archduke of Alsatia, the Sovereign of the Savoy, and the Satrap of Salisbury Court, met by accident at the Cross Shovels. But I expect him back every minute. Even that he was an interfering person, if he walked through that door this moment, she would fling herself at him and weep all over his chest. She looked at me as though I were some unclean thing, as though my soul were weighted with every sin in the calendar. "Well, without immediate care he would have passed out.
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