. . ."
"To a witness?" interposed the Bishop in a tone of courtly banter.
"Come, come, Mr. Rowley, had I known you were going to be so suspicious
of me I should have asked my domestic chaplain to be present on my
side."
Mark, supposing that the Bishop was annoyed by his presence at the
interview, made a movement to retire, whereupon the Bishop tapped him
paternally upon the shoulder and said:
"Nonsense, non-sense, I was merely indulging in a mild pleasantry. Sit
down, Mr. Rowley. Mr. Lidderdale I think you will find that chair quite
comfortable. Well, Mr. Rowley," he began, "I have heard much of you and
your work. Our friend Canon Whymper spoke of it with enthusiasm. Yes,
yes, with enthusiasm. I often regret that in the course of my ministry I
have never had the good fortune to be called to work among the poor, the
real poor. You have been privileged, Mr. Rowley, if I may be allowed to
say so, greatly, immensely privileged. You find a wilderness, and you
make of it a garden. Wonderful. Wonderful."
Mark began to feel uncomfortable, and he thought by the way Father
Rowley was puffing his cheeks that he too was beginning to feel
uncomfortable. The Missioner looked as if he was blowing away the lather
of the soap that the Bishop was using upon him so prodigally.
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