“That just shows,” I said, “what a tremendous impression you made on him with Selby-Harrison’s text.”
“It wasn’t the text at all. He said it had been the dearest wish of his heart for years. Can you imagine anything more silly?”
“I see now,” I said, “why he always took such an interest in everything you did and went out of his way to try to keep you from getting into mischief. I think better of the Archdeacon than I ever did before.”
“He’s a horrid old beast.’”
“You can’t altogether blame him, though.”
“I can.”
“You oughtn’t to, for you don’t know——”
“I do know.”
“No, you don’t. Not what I mean.”
“What do you mean? I don’t believe you mean anything.”