A wicked thought went through Mark's head. He let it slide out in words before he weighed the words or the thought. An instant after, he could have bitten his tongue with chagrin.
"But don't you take the manhood into account in dealing with your clergy?"
To Mark's surprise the Bishop was not offended by the plain reference to the unpleasant scene in the rectory at Sihasset.
"Thank you; thank you kindly, Mr. Griffin, for giving me such an excellent opening. I really wanted you to say something like that. If you hadn't, I should certainly have been nonplussed about finding the opening for what I desire to say to you. You are now referring to my seemingly unchristian treatment of Monsignore Murray? Eh, what?" It seemed to please the Bishop to lay emphasis on the English "Eh, what?" He said it with a comic intonation that relieved Mark's chagrin.
"Your Lordship is a diplomat. I was wrong to ask the question. The affair is simply none of my business."
"But it is, Mr. Griffin. I would not want you, a stranger—perhaps not even a Catholic—to keep in your mind the idea that a Catholic bishop is cold and heartless in his dealings with his flock, and particularly with his under-shepherds."
Mark did not know what to answer, but he wanted to help the Bishop understand his own feelings.
"I like Father Murray very much, my dear Lord—or rather my dear Bishop."
It was the Bishop's turn to smile. "You are getting our ways fast, Mr. Griffin. When we part, I suppose you'll slap me on the back and say 'Bish.'"
"The Lord forbid."