Part 36: Penelope preaches…

For ten dreary minutes, Penelope preached.

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“Oh, it won’t be necessary, I guess,” said Mr Styles, irritably waving off the keys Penelope offered.

“But I just want to help somehow! What can I do?”

“Tell you what you do: Go see Inspector Dobbs, in his cottage, called Rose Cottage, and tell him all you know.”

“I shall. I take my sister’s crime on my shoulders. Otherwise, I’d be committing the sin of Cain. Thank you for giving me a chance to make amends for our joint transgression. As Vicar Bitter often says: it is a blessing to pay penalty for sin, no matter how painful the physical punishment. As I may have told you, I am an accepted member of the All Saints Brethren, and though we are free from false piety and dogma, it is our firm belief—”

Then, for ten dreary minutes, Penelope preached. She quoted passages from forgotten books and quaint, ungenerous elders. She twisted bitter pride and clumsy mysticism into a fanatical spider web of jargon.

Mr Styles was a churchgoer and an ardent supporter of missionary funds, but Penelope’s self-righteousness alternately bored him to a chill shiver and provoked him to wrath. He raised both hands, palms facing Penelope as if to fend off a pale and scaly leper. “You’ll have to excuse me, but I’m pretty busy. Please close the door behind you on your way out.”
 
To be continued… 
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Like to know more about Alf, Bert and the rest of the gang? You can read their chaotic history in What on Earth.
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