"Can you be
happy and comfortable and at ease, when you see what Christ might be to
human beings and what He is? Who thinks of Him, who cares for Him, who
loves His sweetness and charity and tenderness? Why is something always in
the way, always, always, always? Love! Charity! Doesn't such a place as
this Cathedral breed hatred and malice and pride and jealousy? And isn't
its very beauty a contempt?...And now what right have you to help my
appointment to Pybus?"
Ronder smiled.
"You are what we need here," he said. "You shall shake some of our comfort
from us--make a new life here for us."
Wistons was suddenly almost timid. He spoke as though he were waking from
some dream.
"Good-bye.... Good-bye. No, don't come down. Thank you so much. Thank you.
Very kind of you. Good-bye."
But Ronder insisted on coming down. They shook hands at his door. The
figure was lost in the evening sun.
Ronder stood there for a moment gazing at the bright grass, the little
houses with their shining knockers, the purple shadow of the Cathedral.
Had he done right? Was Wistons the man? Might he not be more dangerous
than.
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