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Updated: June 8, 2025
Profoundly moved Parr's he had been on that Sunday afternoon, in Eldon Parr's garden, he had resolutely resolved to thrust the woman and the incident from his mind, to defer the consideration of the questions she had raised grave though they were to a calmer period.
And Nelson Langmaid, who had fallen into the habit of dropping into Hodder's rooms in the parish house on his way uptown for a chat about books, had been struck by the rector's friendship with the banker. "I don't understand how you managed it, Hodder, in such a short time," he declared. "Mr. Parr's a difficult man.
He came to see me last year, and sat in that chair; I honour Parr he knows much, and is a sound man." "Does he know the truth?" "Know the truth! he knows what's good, from an oyster to an ostrich he's not only sound but round." "Suppose we drink his health?" "Thank you, boy: here's Parr's health, and Whiter's." "Who is Whiter?" "Don't you know Whiter?
Parr's getting ready to make another big haul right now. I know, because Plimpton said as much, although he didn't confide in me what this particular piece of rascality is. He knows better." Phil Goodrich looked grim. "But the law?" exclaimed his wife. "There never was a law that Nelson Langmaid couldn't drive a horse and carriage through." "And Mr. Langmaid's one of the nicest men I know!"
He might have known by looking at the man that he would wake up some day, such was the burden of his lament. And there came to him, ironically out of the past, the very words of Mr. Parr's speech to the vestry after Dr. Gilman's death, that succinct list of qualifications for a new rector which he himself, Nelson Langmaid, had humorously and even more succinctly epitomized.
Even this last revelation, of Eldon Parr's agency in another tragedy, seemed to have no further power to affect him... Nor could Hodder think of Alison as in blood-relationship to the financier, or even to the boy, whose open, pleasure-loving face he had seen in the photograph. A presage of autumn was in the air, and a fine, misty rain drifted in at his windows as he sat at his breakfast.
I am bored to death with his opinions, which, on the policy of the latter, are cheap indeed. The old man now became exceedingly nervous; indeed, he seemed like one laboring under the first symptoms of an over-dose of Parr's Life Pills. 'Smooth! I am sacrificed; yes, sir, literally sacrificed to all his folly!
The life of Dr. Parr is Dr. Parr's style put in action; and Lord Byron makes himself through existence unhappy for having accidentally slipped into a melancholy current of words. But suppose you escape this calamity by a peculiar hardihood of temperament, you escape not the stamp of popular opinion.
His parishioners! his Christians! Oh God! The man was speaking in his shrill voice. "Well, I was a Traction sucker, all right, and I guess you wouldn't have to walk more than two blocks to find another in this neighbourhood. You think Eldon Parr's a big, noble man, don't you? You're proud to run his church, ain't you?
And yet he was rated one of the rich men of the city, and his name Hodder had read on many boards with Mr. Parr's! A person more versed in the modern world of affairs than the late rector of Bremerton would not have been so long in arriving at the answer to this riddle. Hodder was astute, he saw into people more than they suspected, but he was not sophisticated.
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