"What's the matter?" asked Tozer, in a sympathizing voice.
"I'm so sorry."
"What for?"
"Why, that you saved my life, you know."
"Sorry? sorry? that I saved your life?" repeated Tozer, in amazement.
"Oh, well, you know, I did so want to be saved by a Roman Catholic priest, you know."
"To be saved by a Roman Catholic priest!" repeated Tozer, pondering these words in his mind as he slowly pronounced them. He could make nothing of them at first, but finally concluded that they concealed some half-suggested tendency to Rome.
"I don't like this—I don't like this," he said, solemnly.
"What don't you like?"
"It's dangerous. It looks bad," said Tozer, with increased solemnity.