"You?"
"Yes. The Anglican ministry stands for an orderly, decent, restrained religious profession, but it does not commit the priest to dogmatic extravagance."
"I see," said Paul. "The Church of England appeals to you on those grounds exactly which make it impossible for me, at least as yet."
"But why? No bishop would refuse you on account of moderation."
"Quite so. But the Apostle had a word to say on that to the Church of Laodicea."
Tressor frowned slightly. He disliked Paul in that mood. "Surely you see now," he said, "that you cannot determine the universe by a single text."
Paul threw his leg over the arm of his chair. "That is precisely what I do see," he said. "I'm one immense note of interrogation."
The don smiled. "That's admirable, anyway, and that, I suppose, blocks Rome. I'm unfeignedly glad. I confess I saw you go to Thurloe End with some fear. You're impressionable, and Father Vassall has a magnetic personality."
A shadow gathered in Paul's face, gathered and deepened. "But I played the coward there," he said.
"Tell me," said Tressor, "if you can, that is."