"Where?"

"He's getting the milk."

"I don't believe he is. Anyway, you can discharge him and take
me on. I've been out of work for years. Besides, you've been
sent. In your advent I descry the finger of Providence."

"I wish I did. What do you mean?"

"This day," I said, "I am perforce a zealot."

"A what?"

"A zealot- a Banana zealot. You, too, shall be a zealot. We
will unite our zeal, and this day light such a candle- "

"The man's mad," she said. "Quite mad."

I explained. "You see," I said, "it's like this. Simply miles
away, somewhere south south and by south of us, there are a lot
of heathen. They're called Bananas. I don't know very much
about it, but there seems to be a sort of understanding that we
should keep them in missionaries. So every now and then the
'worker' push here get up a fete thing and take money off
people. Then they find one and send him out. Well, there's one
of these stunts on this afternoon, and I've been let in to do
something. That's why I look so pale and interesting. The last
day or two I've been desperate about it. But now..."