There was no question of listening to any tales of the three deadly sins that still remained out of the seven. Why, to do so, the band of listeners would have had to stay awake and attentive until the sun was rising once more on the other side of the sky! Laurence promised that there would be plenty of time for them to hear about pride and anger and envy on the next day. No one dissented. None of the travellers expressed the wish to get on with their journey at first light. Providentially, it was a Sunday, so the pilgrims would be able to attend St Mary’s, to receive the blessing of the local priest and distract the local people of Mundham with their different clothes and accents. In church, they could meditate on the stories they’d heard so far and contemplate their own sinfulness – or, no doubt in the case of a few of the pilgrims, their own worthiness. Once the pilgrims, tired but satisfied, were ushered by lantern-light to their bedchambers in the Angel tavern, and once Laurence and his wife had attended to the inevitable little niggles, gripes and requests from such a diverse group, the innkeeper rubbed his hands.
