"Oh, I say, I'm sorry," cried Paul. "But—but—can't you see? Doubtless it's sheer presumption, but evangelicalism seems to me utterly divorced from reason and knowledge. It has no logical basis at all. Rome may be wrong, but it's logical. It's a conceivable theory. Evangelical Protestantism just won't do.... Look here, the Church might be infallible, divine. It's just possible. I don't know ... but it's possible. But the Bible is not infallible—we know that—and what is more, it would be useless if it were without an explicit interpretation. That's certain, final."
Tressor glanced at his correspondence. He ought to attend to it, but, on the other hand, an idea was forming in his mind. The more he thought of it, the more he liked it. The letters might wait. He got up and moved over towards the bookshelves. Paul, behind him, went on abstractedly.
"And then there's the other reason. That seems to me less honourable, less convincing, but—I can't help it—it's overpowering. Put it like this. Could I possibly put on the scarlet jersey of the Salvation Army and follow the band? Could I? Well, I couldn't. That—that's an insult to—to beauty, a blasphemy against—against—oh, I don't know—against a summer's day, I think. And an evangelical ministry means a red jersey, you know—or something like it. The Mission Hall, for example; the Religious Tract Society.... I say, am I a—a damned fool?"
Tressor had taken a little book off the shelves, and was half mechanically turning the leaves. Immature, of course, weak in places, but—— He put it back.
"Eh?" he queried, smiling. "A red jersey? No, I rather agree. But the morning's going. Where are you lunching? Have some with me?"
"I'd love to," said Paul.
"Right. Give me half an hour for these letters. And at luncheon I'll tell you what's come into my head." He smiled, affectionately.
"Thanks," said Paul, getting up. Then he remembered his First again, overwhelmingly. "I think I'll just go and see," he said boyishly, "whether there are any telegrams for me."
Tressor turned to his desk. "Do," he said. "One o'clock."
(2)