decision. "Muffle up until you are well out of Bishopsgate Street,
where it still snows."

"But how did you get the keys?" said Brother Bones.

"From under the Father Superior's door-mat."

"But that was wrong, Brother."

"The mat bore the inscription, 'Salve,' which you know in Latin
means 'Welcome,'" returned John Gale. "It was logically a
permission."

The two men gazed at each other silently. A shudder passed over
the two left eyelids of their wan spiritual faces.

"But I have no money," said Brother Bones.

"Nor have I. But here is a 'bus ticket and a free pass to the
Gaiety. You will probably find Golly somewhere about. Tell her,"
he said in a hollow voice, "that I'm getting on."

"I will," said Brother Bones, with a deep cough.

The gate opened and he disappeared in the falling snow. The
bloodhound kept by the monastery--one of the real Bishopsgate
breed--bayed twice, and licked its huge jaws in ghastly
anticipation. "I wonder," said John Gale as he resumed his
shoveling, "if I have done exactly right. Candor compels me to
admit that it is an open question."