"The devil!" cried Good.
Judith's amazement was not feigned. It struck Imrie that it would have been more pleasant to him had she shown less astonishment at the course he had taken. "But it isn't final?" she cried.
"As far as I am concerned, it is. It is not at all unlikely that the vestry will find it final too." More than ever Imrie resented the presence of Good. He wanted to explain to Judith the part she had played in his resolution. That made him tell the story of his interview with Judge Wolcott very perfunctorily, and dismiss the subject as quickly as he could.
But Good was not easily put off, although Judith seemed to sense the purpose in his reticence. "What will you do if you resign?" he asked bluntly.
"Not 'if,'" said Imrie coldly, "I have already resigned."
Good ignored the snub. "What'll you do next?" he persisted.
"I have no idea," said Imrie, turning away. A moment later he rose to leave.
Good eyed him quizzically as they shook hands, and smiled, half wistfully, half amusedly. "You don't understand me, Mr. Imrie," he said with characteristic candour; "you don't think I understand. I'm older than you. I have been through things. Some day—perhaps—oh, well, we'll wait for the day, won't we?"
Imrie was puzzled. He was vaguely grateful, too, though he could find no words to express his gratitude. He stared perplexedly at Good, who had picked up a magazine and appeared deeply engrossed. Then he shrugged his shoulders helplessly and turned to go.
"Some time," he said to Judith, who had followed him to the door, "I should like to see you and tell you all about it." He looked at her longingly as he spoke. He seemed very tired, she thought.