The Vicar interrupted: "But Mendham—he has wings!"
"Please let me talk to him," said Mendham.
"You are so quaint," said the Angel; "you interrupt everything I have to say."
"But what have you to say?" said Mendham.
"That I really am an Angel …"
"Pshaw!"
"There you go!"
"But tell me, honestly, how you came to be in the shrubbery of Siddermorton Vicarage--in the state in which you were. And in the Vicar's company. Cannot you abandon this ridiculous story of yours? …"
The Angel shrugged his wings. "What is the matter with this man?" he said to the Vicar.
"My dear Mendham," said the Vicar, "a few words from me …"
"Surely my question is straightforward enough!"
"But you won't tell me the answer you want, and it's no good my telling you any other."
"Pshaw!" said the Curate again. And then turning suddenly on the Vicar, "Where does he come from?"
