He spoke by the book, like one who repeats a statement carefully prepared.
"It was past ten o'clock on the night of the 25th June, 1914.

I had just finished supper when I was rung up by the landlord of The Three Feathers on the Farfield road--it's the inn about a quarter of a mile from the lock gates.

He said that the District Secretary of the Red Democratic Federation was staying there--his brother-in-law, if you want to know--and he hadn't received my report.

I must explain that I am the local secretary, and as there was to be an important conference of the Federation at Derby the next day, the District Secretary ought to have been in possession of my report on local affairs.

I had drawn up the report.