"
"Why, of course I will," said the dapper little vicar with a courteous
smile for Mark. "Do take some more claret, Father Rowley. It's rather a
specialty of ours here. We have a friend in Bordeaux who buys for us."
It was typical of Mr. Mortemer to use the plural.
"There you are, Mark Anthony. I've secured you a title."
"Mr. Mortemer is only being polite," said Mark.
"No, no, my dear boy, on the contrary I meant absolutely what I said."
He seemed worried by Mark's distrust of his sincerity, and for the rest
of lunch he laid himself out to entertain his less important guest,
talking with a slight excess of charm about the lack of vitality, loss
of influence, and oriental barbarism of the Orthodox Church.
"_Enfin_, Asiatic religion," he said. "Don't you agree with me, Mr.
Lidderdale? And our Philorthodox brethren who would like to bring about
reunion with such a Church . . . the result would be dreadful . . .
Eurasian . . . yes, I must confess that sometimes I sympathize with the
behaviour of the Venetians in the Fourth Crusade."
Father Rowley looked at his watch and announced that it was time to
start for Poplar, where he was to address a large gathering of
Socialists in the Town Hall. Mr. Mortemer made a _moue_.
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