"Claim everything in sight while you are at it," said Owen. "In God's name what connection has your gorgeous cathedral with any one's freedom?"
"Father dear, you are exciting yourself," Honora broke in, but neither heeded her.
"Christ brought us true freedom," said Monsignor, "and the Church alone teaches, practises, and maintains it."
"A fine example is provided by Ireland, where to a dead certainty freedom was lost because the Church had too unnatural a hold upon the people."
"What was lost on account of the faith will be given back again with compound interest. Political and military movements have done much for Ireland in fifty years; but the only real triumphs, universal, brilliant, enduring, significant, leading surely up to greater things, have been won by the Irish faith, of which that cathedral, shining so gloriously in the sun this afternoon, is both a result and a symbol."
"I believe you will die with that conviction," Ledwith said in wonder.
"I wish you could die with the same, Owen," replied Monsignor tenderly.
They fell silent for a little under the stress of sudden feeling.
"How do men reason themselves into such absurdities?" Owen asked himself.
"You ought to know. You have done it often enough," said the priest tartly.