Francis Davey, of course, is there now, because today is Sunday. She stood there, not knowing what to do, but then opened the gate and went out on the track a young woman holding flowers. She looked at Mary and, realizing that the stranger in front of her, was about to pass by, saying only 'good evening', but she went up to her. - Excuse me, - Mary said, - I see, you are out of the church. You do not say, Mr. Davey there? - No, - she said, and asked: - You want to see him? - Yes, and very hot, - she said. - I was at his house, knocked, but no one opened. Could you help me?