Crump, coming up. "I'm sorry they have been annoying you."
The Angel seemed quite upset. "I don't understand," he said. "These Human ways…"
"Yes, of course. Unusual to you. How's your excrescence?"
"My what?" said the Angel.
"Bifid limb, you know. How is it? Now you're down this way, come in. Come in and let me have a look at it again. You young roughs! And meanwhile these little louts of ours will be getting off home. They're all alike in these villages. Can't understand anything abnormal. See an odd-looking stranger. Chuck a stone. No imagination beyond the parish… (I'll give you Physic if I catch you annoying strangers again.)… I suppose it's what one might expect… Come along this way."
So the Angel, horribly perplexed still, was hurried into the surgery to have his wound redressed.
§ 28
In Siddermorton Park is Siddermorton House, where old Lady Hammergallow lives, chiefly upon Burgundy and the little scandals of the village, a dear old lady with a ropy neck, a ruddled countenance and spasmodic gusts of odd temper, whose three remedies for all human trouble among her dependents are a bottle of gin, a pair of charity blankets, or a new crown piece. The House is a mile and a half out of Siddermorton. Almost all the village is hers, saving a fringe to the south which belongs to Sir John
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