"I'd like to." Paul was emphatic. Also the thing was very vivid to him and had lost nothing in retrospection. His hearer saw the situation as he unfolded it, saw it almost as vividly as Paul had seen it, but his wonder grew almost more quickly than his interest. He found himself scarcely listening, impatient of the final details. "So you see," concluded Paul, "I was afraid to pray. I knew that if I gave way an inch I should give way altogether. And in the end, I—I fled." There was death in his voice.
"Well," retorted Tressor, "I congratulate you with all my heart. Honestly, Paul, I did not think you had so much in you. Really, you interest me enormously."
"What!" cried the genuinely astonished Paul.
"Of course. The whole thing was consummate staged emotionalism. And you came through it, and Vassall's overwhelming hypnotic personality, by the sheer force of your own will. No, honestly, I never dreamed you had it in you. I am most extraordinarily glad."
Paul returned his leg to a normal position. He stared at the speaker for appreciable seconds without a word. Then he laughed. "Well," he said, "well—— And of course you may be right."
"I should say there can be no room for doubt.... But, if that's Rome, why not the Church of England? Orders and a fellowship—writing, lecturing, preaching. It would suit you admirably."
"It would not," retorted Paul decisively. "I should never be content. Besides, what should I preach? For what should I stand? I cannot see the Bible without the Gospel, and I can preach, in Christ's name, nothing but that."
The don knit his brows. "Then what's the matter with an evangelical ministry?"
Paul jumped up. He prowled about restlessly. Suddenly he made a couple of gestures, one to the well-lined shelves, the other to the garden. "That and that," he said.
"I'm afraid you go beyond me," said Tressor politely.