He was the most autocratic of Vergers and had been
allowed now for many years to do as he pleased. The only thorn in his
flesh was Cobbett, the junior Verger, who, as he very well realised, was
longing for him to die, that he might step into his shoes. "I do believe,"
he was accustomed to say to Mrs. Lawrence, a little be-bullied woman,
"that that man will poison me one of these fine days."
His autocracy had grown on him with the size and the whiteness of his
beard, and there were many complaints--rude to strangers, sycophantic to
the aristocracy, greedy of tips, insolent and conceited, he was an
excellent example of the proper spirit of the Church Militant. He had,
however, his merits. He loved small children and would have allowed them
to run riot on the Cathedral greens had he not been checked, and he had a
pride in the Cathedral that would drive him to any sacrifice in his
defence of it.
It was natural enough that he should hate the very sight of Davray, and
when that gentleman appeared he hung about in the background hoping that
he might catch him in some crime.
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