FOUR-ALE BAR
"What should I have done?" I cried, with some heat.
"Gone to the nearest public-house. That is the centre
of country gossip."
ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE: The Solitary Cyclist.
The police were out of the house by tea-time. Indeed the unhappy Kirk, having ascertained that by no dodging, stooping or standing on tip-toe could anyone obtain a sight of the clock-face from the window, found himself with but little zest to prolong his inquiries. He made the half-hearted suggestion that Noakes might have temporarily removed the cactus from its pot after 6.20 and replaced it before 9.30; but he could offer himself no plausible explanation of any such aimless proceeding. There was, of course, only Crutchley's word for it that the plant had been there at 6.20--if there was even that; Crutchl
