He forced himself to go back through the kitchen and into the study to face that black hole in the wall. Could he slam the cupboard door, nail it shut? No. O’Leary was coming, would settle down unsuspectingly to live here. It would be wrong to leave the money in the house; it would be like leaving a curse. Quickly he pushed the papers down into the brown shopping bag and stuffed in the money on top of them. He took the other jars out of the cupboard, one by one, and emptied them into the bag, not touching the bundles of notes but levering them out with a paper knife he found on the desk. Then he folded down the top of the bag. He was just securing it with a piece of string when there came a knock at the hall door.

Fumbling in his haste, he knotted the string, then took the bag with him when he went to the door. An elderly woman in a black straw hat stood on the step. From beyond her, Father O’Leary advanced with his hand outstretched. “Well, here I am,” he said, “and this is Mrs. Delany, my next-door-neighbor-to-be and my chapel woman.”

Mrs. Delaney nodded her head, not smiling, and said, “Evening, Father.”

“Mrs. Delany saw you getting off the bus, and she’s convinced you’re the new P.P. That’s why she’s so suspicious of me.”

Mrs. Delany smiled slightly and glanced from one to the other. She had the compressed look of one who is seldom spoken to. “Oh, no indeed, Father,” she said, and added with a titter, “Indeed and I’m not now,” But her neck had flushed.

“Well, what are you up to, Father? I’m told you’re here to make a clean sweep. I hope you’ve left me a bed for the night.”

“I haven’t gone upstairs at all,” Father Mahon said. He became conscious of Father O’Leary’s eyes on the bag in his hand and drew it back a little. “Come on in.”

He led the way toward the kitchen, but Father O’Leary paused at the study door and peered in, “Jam jars! Good God, what next? I hope you’re clearing them all out?” And his eyes moved again toward the bag in Father Mahon’s hand.

“Oh, yes, Father... that is... The Bishop said if there’s anything you’d care to have...”

“No fear! The sooner you have it all shifted out of here, the better. You can auction it or give it away or send it to a jumble sale, whichever you like. My own furniture is coming in at the end of the week and I don’t want it to catch the worm.”

“It’s not giving me much time.”