“Is there much difference?”
“I don’t know. I fancy there is.”
“Well, look here, come up and try the poor fellow with ancient Greek. I expect he’ll understand it if you talk slowly. All we want to get out of him is whether he’s a Protestant or a Catholic.”
“If he’s a Greek at all,” said the rector, “he’ll probably not be either the one or the other.”
“He’s got to be one or the other while he’s here. He can choose whichever happens to be the nearest thing to his own religion, whatever that is. Does Mrs. Jackson know Italian or Spanish?”
“No. I rather think she learned German at school, but I expect——”
“Capital. I’ll put her down for German.”
“I’m sure she’s forgotten it now.”
“Never mind. She can brush it up. There’s not much wanted and she has till six o’clock this evening. I shall count on you both. Good-bye.”
“By the way, doctor,” said Mr. Jackson on the doorstep, “now I come to think of it, I don’t believe there’s a word in ancient Greek for Protestant.”