Pendyce, "over this port.
There's the carriage. Get up, John."
The spaniel John rose heavily, looked sardonically at Mr. Barter, and
again flopped down against his master's leg.
"Get up, John," said Mr. Pendyce again. The spaniel John snored.
'If I move, you'll move too, and uncertainty will begin for me again,'
he seemed to say.
Mr. Pendyce disengaged his leg, rose, and went to the door. Before
reaching it he turned and came back to the table.
"Barter," he said, "I'm not thinking of myself--I'm not thinking of
myself--we've been here for generations--it's the principle." His face
had the least twist to one side, as though conforming to a kink in his
philosophy; his eyes looked sad and restless.
And the Rector, watching the door for the sight of his enemy, also
thought:
'I'm not thinking of myself--I'm satisfied that I did right--I'm Rector
of this parish it's the principle.'
The spaniel John gave three short barks, one for each of the persons
who entered the room. They were Mrs. Pendyce, Mr. Paramor, and Gregory
Vigil.
"Where's George?" asked the Squire, but no one answered him.
The Rector, who had resumed his seat, stared at a little gold cross
which he had taken out of his waistcoat pocket. Mr. Paramor lifted a
vase and sniffed at the rose it contained; Gregory walked to the window.
Pages:
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194