"Yes, fairly often." He repeated my words with a contemptuous grimace. "People who attend church fairly often, Austin, are the people whom, if the good old days could come back, I should like to burn."
"Of course you would. You all would, if you dared say so."
"Just two or three to start with. I should like it done very conspicuously—in the market place."
"The worst of it is that you're really quite sincere in all this."
He pressed my arm. "I don't want to burn you. You've thought, though you've thought wrong. And you've been through tribulation. It's the people who in their hearts just don't——"
"Care a damn?" I profanely suggested.
"Yes," he agreed with a laugh and a grip on my wrist which distinctly hurt.
"But I don't think Miss Driver's quite one of those. At any rate she's intellectually interested—talks about things, and so on."
He nodded. "Yes, I daresay. Well, she's a remarkable girl. Look here—she's worth having, and I'm going to try to get hold of her."
"You never will, though you try for ever—not in your sense. She never surrenders."