"
"I have not been here long enough," said Ronder, "to think of working in
with anybody. And I don't wish to take sides. There's my duty to the
Cathedral. I shall work for that and let the rest go."
"There's your duty to God," said Foster vehemently. "That's the thing that
everybody here's forgotten. But you don't sound as though you'd go
Brandon's way. That's something in your favour."
"Why should one go Brandon's way?" Ronder asked.
"Why? Why? Why? Why do sheep huddle together when the dog barks at their
heels?...But I respect him. Don't you mistake me. He's a man to be
respected. He's got courage. He cares for the Cathedral. He's a hundred
years behind, that's all. He's read nothing, he knows nothing, he's a
child--and does infinite harm...." He looked up at Ronder and said quite
mildly, "Is there anything more you want to know?"
"There's talk," said Ronder, "about the living at Pybus St. Anthony. It's
apparently an important place, and when there's an appointment I should
like to be able to form an opinion about the best man----"
"What! is Morrison dead?" said Foster eagerly.
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