Shock hesitated. "I think I would rather go alone, if you don't mind," he said.
"All right, old chap," said Father Mike, "I understand. The door's always open and the kettle on."
"Thank you," said Shock. "You know how I appreciate that," and he went out.
There was a light in Macfarren's office. Shock knocked at the door and went in. He found the doctor and Macfarren seated by a table, upon which were glasses and a bottle. The doctor was pale, nervous, shaking.
"Sit down, Mr. Macgregor," said Macfarren, with more cordiality than he had ever shown to Shock before.
"I was just saying to the doctor that that was a fine discourse, a very able discourse, Mr. Macgregor."
Shock made no reply, but stood looking at the doctor.
"I would like to say," continued Macfarren, "that I regret your leaving us. I believe, on the whole, it is a mistake; we require preaching like that." There was a touch of real earnestness in Macfarren's tone.
"Mr. Macfarren," said Shock, "I am sorry I have not been able to help you. You need help, you need help badly. Jesus Christ can help you. Goodnight." He took the doctor's arm and, helping him up, walked off with him.
"What do you want?" said the doctor fiercely, when they were outside.