They're talking about someone they call the 'Face-Tailor'. The hook-nosed woman seems eager. The frowning top-hatted man is more sceptical. He mentions the 'Ministry'. The third, whose face you can't see, growls 'And when we're at our prayers? What then?'

A mean little squall comes up, gusting cave-smelling rain-spray in your face. Their conversation is lost in the wind. Time to move on.