He did not answer for a moment, trying to find it possible to deny the charge.
"The fact that you know me better makes me seem different," he answered evasively.
"How much has the fact that you don't know yourself so well to do with it?"
"What do you mean?"
"Oh, anything you like. I merely suspect that you are not so sure of your vocation as you were in the Clergy House. Even a deacon is human, I suppose; and if life is alluring, he can't help feeling it. Are you still sure that the clergy should be celibate, for instance?"
He felt her eyes piercing him as if his secret thoughts were open to her, and he knew that he was flushing to his very hair. He hastened to answer, not only that he might not think, but that she might not perceive that he had admitted any doubt to his heart.
"More than ever," he responded. "It is impossible not to see that a clergyman who is married must have his thoughts distracted from his sacred calling."
Mrs. Staggchase leaned back in her chair and regarded him with the smile which he found always so puzzling and so disconcerting.
"You did that very well," she said, "only you shouldn't have put in the word 'sacred.' That made it all sound conventional. However, you probably meant it. She is distracting."
The hot blood leaped into his face so that he knew that it was utterly impossible to conceal his confusion.