"My parishoners are not in the habit of 'sending' me anywhere. You reverse our respective positions."
"Humility is not one of your ecclesiastical virtues, Most Reverend."
"It may be so."
Gallo thrust his papers back into their drawer and locked it with a sharp click.
"You saw the Syndic of San Beda?"
"I did."
"Much what you say. Official language is always limited and learned by rote."
Gallo would willingly have thrown his bronze inkstand at the insolent ecclesiastic; his temper was naturally choleric, though years of sycophancy and State service had taught him to control it.
"Well, Reverend Sir!" he said, with ill-concealed irritation, "this conversation is, I see, useless. You protect and screen your people. Perhaps I cannot blame you for that, but you will allow me to remind you that it is my duty to see that the order and peace of this district are not in any manner disturbed; and that any parish priest if he fomented dissatisfaction or countenanced agitation in his district, would be much more severely dealt with by me than any civilian would be in the same circumstances. We tolerate and respect the Church so long as she remains strictly within her own sphere, but so long only."
"We are all perfectly well aware of the conditions attached to the placet and the exequatur at all times, and we are all conscious that even the limited privileges of civilians are denied to us!" replied Don Silverio. "I have the honour to wish your Excellency good morning."