A voice in the
wilderness I've been, I'm afraid--a voice in the wilderness, although
perhaps I _have_ managed to do a little something. But there's no doubt
that the men here, excellent though they are, are a _little_ provincial.
What else can you expect? They've been here for years. They have not had,
most of them, the advantage of mingling with the great world. That I
should have had a little more of that opportunity than my fellows here is
nothing to my credit, but it does, beyond question, give one a wider view
--a wider view. There's our dear Bishop for instance--a saint, if ever
there was one. A saint, Ronder, I assure you. But there he is, hidden away
at Carpledon--out of things, I'm afraid, although of course he does his
best. Then there's Sampson. Well, I hardly need to tell you that he's not
quite the man to make things hum. _Not_ by his own fault I assure
you. He does his best, but we are as we're made...yes. We can only use
the gifts that God has given us, and God has not, undoubtedly, given the
Dean _quite_ the gifts that we need here."
He paused and waited.
Pages:
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190