“I’ll come in whenever you like,” Mr. Mousley offered.  “I’m at your disposition entirely.  The only request I have to make is that you will guarantee that the house stays where it was built.  It’s all very fine for an ordinary house to behave like this, but when a mission house behaves like this I call it disgraceful.  I don’t know what I’ve done to the house that it should conceive such a dislike to me.  I say, Lidderdale, have they been taking up the drains or something in this street?  Because I distinctly had an impression just then that I put my foot into a hole.”

“The street’s perfectly all right,” said Mark.  “Nothing has been done to it.”

“There’s no reason why they shouldn’t take up the drains if they want to, I’m not complaining.  Drains have to be taken up and I should be the last man to complain; but I merely asked a question, and I’m convinced that they have been taking up the drains.  Yes, I’ve had a very intellectual evening.  My head’s whirling with philosophy.  We’ve talked about everything.  My friend talked a good deal about Buddhism.  And I made rather a good joke about Confucius being so confusing, at which I laughed inordinately.  Inordinately, Lidderdale.  I’ve had a very keen sense of humour ever since I was a baby.  I say, Lidderdale, you certainly know your way about this street.  I’m very much obliged to me for meeting you.  I shall get to know the street in time.  You see, my object was to get beyond the house, because I said to myself ’the house is in Keppel Street, it can dodge about in Keppel Street, but it can’t be in any other street,’ so I thought that if I could dodge it into the corner of Keppel Street—­you follow what I mean?  I may be talking a bit above your head, we’ve been talking philosophy all the evening, but if you concentrate you’ll follow my meaning.”

“Here we are,” said Mark, for by this time he had persuaded Mr. Mousley to put his foot upon the step of the front door.

“You managed the house very well,” said the clergyman.  “It’s extraordinary how a house will take to some people and not to others.  Now I can do anything I like with dogs, and you can do anything you like with houses.  But it’s no good patting or stroking a house.  You’ve got to manage a house quite differently to that.  You’ve got to keep a house’s accounts.  You haven’t got to keep a dog’s accounts.”

They were in the gymnasium by now, which by the light of Mark’s small candle loomed as vast as a church.

“Don’t talk as you go upstairs,” Mark admonished.

“Isn’t that a dog I see there?”

“No, no, no,” said Mark.  “It’s the horse.  Come along.”

“A horse?” Mousley echoed.  “Well, I can manage horses too.  Come here, Dobbin.  If I’d known we were going to meet a horse I should have brought back some sugar with me.  I suppose it’s too late to go back and buy some sugar now?”

“Yes, yes,” said Mark impatiently.  “Much too late.  Come along.”