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Updated: June 15, 2025
But finally, when all is said and done, we remain ourselves. It is our own life that we must lead, our own goal for which we are searching. At the end of everything we remain alone, of ourselves, by ourselves, for ourselves. Life is, finally, a lonely journey to a lonely bourne, let us cheat ourselves as we may." Ronder sat back in his chair, his eyes half closed.
"Do forgive me if I am impertinent," said Wistons quietly, "but I have to know this." "But of course," said Ronder, "I consider you the best man for this appointment. I should not have stirred a finger in your support otherwise." But that is quite natural; you have only to consider some of your published works to understand that.
And, of course, behind all this immediate situation was his sense of the pleasure and satisfaction that Ronder must be feeling about Falk's scandal. Licking his thick red lips about it, he must be, watching with his little fat eyes for the moment when, with his round fat fingers, he might probe that wound.
"Surely there isn't a healthier man in the kingdom," said Ronder, pushing his spectacles back into the bridge of his nose. "Think so, wouldn't you? But you'd be wrong. A sudden shock, and that man would be nowhere. Given to fits of anger, always tried his system too hard, never learnt control. Might have a stroke any day for all he looks so strong!" "Really, really! Dear me!" said Ronder.
"You'll let me come another day, won't you?" "Of course. Of course." The Canon himself accompanied his guest into the hall and opened the front door for him. "Any time any time that I can help you." "Thank you so very much. Good-bye." "Good-bye. Good-bye." So far so good, but Ronder was aware that his next visit would be quite another affair and so indeed it proved.
It is so beautiful, so lovely, so haughty, so jealous! "For I, thy God, am a jealous God...." He broke off. "I could love Christ better in that garden than in the Cathedral. Tear it down and build it up again!" He turned restlessly, almost savagely, to Ronder. "Can you be happy and comfortable and at ease, when you see what Christ might be to human beings and what He is?
Ryle was not a good conversationalist, because he had always before him the fear that some one might twist what he said into something really unpleasant, but, indeed, he found Ronder so agreeable that, as he told Mrs. Ryle when he got home, he "never noticed the hill at all."
"Well, it is interesting. What do you think? Falk Brandon has been sent down from Oxford for misbehaviour." "And who is Falk Brandon?" asked Ronder. "The Archdeacon's son. His only boy. I've told you about Archdeacon Brandon many times. He thinks he runs the town and has been terribly above himself for a long while. This will pull him down a little.
"She went home and complained, and it was the Archdeacon who brought up the affair at a Committee meeting and insisted on my dismissal. Yes, Canon Ronder, I know my enemy and I shall not forget it." "Dear me," said Canon Ronder benevolently, "I'm more than sorry. Certainly it sounds a little hasty, although the Archdeacon is the most honourable of men." "Honourable! Honourable!"
There is the little wagonette; Bassett must go, in any case, to get some things. It is no trouble, no trouble at all." They, of course, agreed, although for Brandon at any rate there would be many things in the world pleasanter than sitting with Ronder in a small wagonette for more than an hour.
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