"That I am a fierce Protestant, I suppose you mean," smiled Paul.
"And a p-p-poet," stammered the little priest, "which is very much nicer, Mr. Kestern."
"You two ought to have a lot in common," put in Hannam with lazy interest. "Father Vassall was once a Protestant, Kestern, and he is still a poet."
"Much b-better P-P-Protestant than p-p-poet," exploded the accused merrily.
They drew round the fire with their tea. Conversation ranged over their doings in the vacation and the prospects of the term, and Paul learned that Father Vassall had been a wet Bob at Eton and cox of his college crew at the University. Absurdly enough, he had never associated such healthy doings with Papistry. But Father Vassall had been a Protestant then. This amazing fact held Paul's mind. It staggered him to think that Protestants could ever become Catholics. He looked on the priest with amazement and real sorrow. For one thing he could never have known Christ....
Hannam asked Paul if he had been to the theatre; Paul confessed to Peter Pan; Father Vassall said that above all things he would like to see it.
"Why don't you go then?" enquired Paul carelessly.
"P-priests are forbidden to go to p-plays," said Father Vassall.
"What!" cried Paul. Ridiculously, it was his first shock. He had always understood that actors, actresses and Roman Catholics owned the same master and were as thick as thieves, and here was a priest professing to be forbidden by his Church to go to the theatre at all! Father Vassall explained. "But we can go to m-m-music halls," he stammered, his eyes alight with mischief.
"Kestern prefers missionary meetings," said Hannam.