He made a memorandum on his shirt cuff. The Angel watched him thoughtfully, with the dawn of a smile in his eyes.
“One minute, Crump,” said the Vicar, taking the Doctor’s arm and leading him towards the door.
The Angel’s smile grew brighter. He looked down at his black-clad legs. “He positively thinks I am a man!” said the Angel. “What he makes of the wings beats me altogether. What a queer creature he must be! This is really a most extraordinary Dream!”
XIV.
“That is an Angel,” whispered the Vicar. “You don’t understand.”
“What?” said the Doctor in a quick, sharp voice. His eyebrows went up and he smiled.
“But the wings?”
“Quite natural, quite ... if a little abnormal.”
“Are you sure they are natural?”
“My dear fellow, everything that is, is natural. There is nothing unnatural in
