"In a minor degree, in a minor degree," answered the rector, rather evasively.
They were now in Sloane Street and Malling said:
"I must turn off here."
"I'll go with you as far as your door if you've no objection," said the rector, who seemed very loath to leave his companion. "It's odd how men change, isn't it?"
"As they grow older? But surely development is natural and to be expected?"
"Certainly. But when a man changes drastically, sheds his character and takes on another?"
"You are talking perhaps of what is called conversion?"
"Well, that would be an instance of what I mean, no doubt. But there are changes of another type. We clergymen, you know, mix intimately with so many men that we are almost bound to become psychologists if we are to do any good. It becomes a habit with many of us to study closely our fellow-men. Now I, for instance; I cannot live at close quarters with a man without, almost unconsciously, subjecting him to a minute scrutiny, and striving to sum him up. My curates, for example—"
"Yes?" said Malling.
"There are four of them, our friend Chichester being the senior one."