‘I don’t pretend to be a saint,’ he said, ‘but I know what I’m talking about. I call Bradley a renegade! It’s a mean thing, in my opinion, to take money for preaching opinions in which a man does not believe.’
‘Only just now you said that he preached heresy—or atheism—whatever you like to call it.’
‘Yes; and is paid for preaching the very reverse.’
Alma could no longer conceal her irritation.
‘Why should we discuss a topic you do not understand? Mr. Bradley is a gentleman whose aims are too high for the ordinary comprehension, that is all.’
‘Of course you think me a fool, and are polite enough to say so!’ persisted George. ‘Well, I should not mind so much if Bradley had not succeeded in infecting you with his pernicious opinions. He has done so, though you may deny it! Since he came to the neighbourhood, you have not been like the same girl. The fellow ought to be horsewhipped if he had his deserts.’
Alma stopped short, and looked the speaker in the face.
‘Be good enough to leave me,—and come back when you are in a better temper.’
George gave a disagreeable laugh.
‘No; I’m coming to lunch with you.’