"We had not time; for, as I have just mentioned, I was forced to come away to meet you."
"And while you were discussing methods of helping the unfortunate, I was rescuing one from the water down at Long Wharf."
Douglas spoke slowly, and he watched to see the effect of his words. But Dr. Rannage did not seem to notice the implied sarcasm, nor the sharp contrast between theory and practice.
"So that is what you were doing, eh?" the latter questioned. "You seem to enjoy being down there."
"I enjoy helping the unfortunate, and because I am not allowed to continue the work, I have sent in my resignation."
"But you must remember that you have a duty to the parish as a whole, and not to one portion of it only."
"Haven't I tried to do my duty? I have visited in season and out of season, and worked like a dog for the two years I have been with you."
"But I have received complaints that you are unsociable, and that you refuse all invitations to, ah, friendly gatherings and such like affairs."
"You mean card-parties and afternoon teas, I suppose," Douglas sharply replied. "If so, I plead guilty. Haven't I taken a keen interest in the Boy Scouts, the Young Men's Club, the Sunday School, and dear knows what? Any spare time I had I spent at the water-front in an effort to follow my Master's example of putting my religion into practice. How dare I waste my time sipping tea at this house and that, and talking nice little nothings to the butterflies who gather there, when there is so much to be done, and precious souls to be helped and saved?"
"But the butterflies, of whom you speak so contemptuously, need to be helped as well."