“I sometimes feel that you think too much about your uncle, Mr. Longvale,” said Michael gently.
The old gentleman frowned.
“You mean——?”
“I mean that such a subject may become an obsession and a very unhealthy obsession, and such hero-worship may lead a man to do things which no sane man would do.”
Longvale looked at him in genuine astonishment.
“Can one do better than imitate the deeds of the great?” he asked.
“Not if your sense of values hasn’t got all tangled up, and you ascribe to him virtues which are not virtues—unless duty is a virtue—and confuse that which is great with that which is terrible.”
Michael turned and, resting his palms on the table, looked across to the old man who confronted him.
“I want you to come with me into Chichester this evening.”
“Why?” The question was asked bluntly.