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Strange that little green cloud rising like smoke from the tower.... I want to say how greatly I've regretted that. I feel that we don't know one another as we should. I wonder if you would allow me..." The light was fading Ronder's spectacles shone, his body in shadow. "...to see something more of you to have a real talk with you?" Brandon smiled grimly to himself in the dusk. This fool!

The room literally swam in a tide of impulse that carried him against Ronder's body and left him there, breast beating against breast.... He turned without a word and almost ran from the place.

His hair was jet black and thick; his hand, as it gripped Ronder's, strong and bony. "I'm very glad to meet you, Canon Ronder," he said. "I've heard so much about you." His voice, as Mrs. Combermere long afterwards remarked, "has a twinkle in it." It was a jolly voice, humorous, generous but incisive, and exceedingly clear.

There could be no doubt of it. Ronder ought at once to resent any imputation on his honesty. What right had this man to dip down into Ronder's motives?

Unfortunately Falk liked Ronder. "I think Ronder's rather a good sort," he said. "A clever fellow, too." The Archdeacon stared at him. "You like him?" "Yes, father, I do." "And of course it matters nothing to you that he should by your father's persistent enemy and do his best to hinder him in everything and every way possible."

"Further north this would not, I should think, be called a wagonette at all, but in Glebeshire there are special names for everything. And then, of course, we are both big men." This comparison was most unfortunate. Ronder's body was soft and plump, most unmistakably fat. Brandon's was apparently in magnificent condition.

There was, however, no other course, and, a quarter of an hour later, the two clergymen found themselves opposite one another in a wagonette that was indeed so small that it seemed inevitable that Ronder's knees must meet Brandon's and Brandon's ankles glide against Ronder's. The Archdeacon's temper was, by this time, at its worst. Everything had been ruined by Ronder's presence.

"I know that you do not." Ronder's face was really troubled; there was an expression in his eyes that his aunt had never seen. Brandon moved on, looking neither to right nor left. Ronder continued: "I know how you feel about me. But to-day somehow this service I feel that I can't allow our quarrel to continue without speaking. It isn't easy for me " He broke off. Brandon's voice shook.

But we've got to win! There's never been such a chance for us! If Brandon wins now our opportunity is gone for another generation. What Wistons can do here if he comes! The power that he will be!" Suddenly there came into Ronder's mind for the first time the thought that was to recur to him very often in the future.

After Brandon had moved his legs about in every possible direction and found it impossible to escape Ronder's knees, he said: "Excuse my knocking into you so often, Canon." "Oh, that's all right," said Ronder, laughing. "This drive comes worse on you than myself, I fancy. You're bonier.... What a splendid figure the Bishop is! A great man really, a great man.