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Updated: June 17, 2025
Ryle looked the typical clergyman, tall but not too tall, here a smile and there a smile, with his soft black hat, his trousers too baggy at the knees, his boots and his gold watch-chain both too large.
Bentinck-Major rubbed his soft hands one against the other and closed his eyes as though he were determined to be a gentleman to the last; Martin sat upright in his chair, his face puzzled, his gaze fixed upon Ronder; Ryle, the picture of nervous embarrassment, glanced from one face to another, as though imploring every one not to be angry with him all these sharp words were certainly not his fault.
You wrote to me s-something about that Jubilee-music in the Cathedral. You find that Ryle is making rather a m-mess of things, don't you?" Brandon was deeply offended. Of what was the Bishop thinking that he could so idly drag forward the substance of an entirely private letter, without asking permission, into the public air?
Ryle flushed with pleasure to the very tips of his over-large ears. "Oh, really, Canon...But indeed I hardly know what to say. You're too good. I do my poor best, but I can't help feeling that there is danger of one's becoming stale. I've been here a great many years now and I think some one fresh...." "Well, often," said Ronder, "that is a danger.
Timber-toes goes with the Ryle Navy and pensions. They won't do in the marchant sarvice. All right, doctor; I'm game to do just as you tell me, only let me get about a bit. Couldn't you put my leg in a sling?" "Your leg isn't your arm, Neb," I cried, laughing. "Well, sir, who said it were? I knows the diffrens 'tween a fore and a hind flipper." "There, that will do, my man," said the doctor.
His presence could alter nothing, the voting could go only one way. It would be very painful were he there. Surely after the High Street affair he would not come. They were standing about the room, looking out into the Cloisters, talking in little groups the Dean, Bentinck-Major, Ryle, Foster, and Bond, the Clerk, a little apart from the others as social decency demanded.
That ought to be enough for anybody." The atmosphere was now very warm indeed. There was every likelihood of several gentlemen speaking at once. Witheram looked anxious, Bentinck- Major malicious, Ryle nervous, Foster triumphant, and Brandon furious. Only Ronder seemed unconcerned. The Dean, distress in his heart, raised his hand.
You might have got it before you AXED for it, said I, but not afore you WANTED it, you may depend on it. But stop, said I, let's see that all's right afore we part; so I counts over the fifteen pounds I won of him, note by note, as slow as any thing, on purpose to ryle him, then I mounts "old Clay" agin, and says I, friend, you have considerably the advantage of me this hitch, any how.
Moreover, Ryle, when he could rise above his alarm for the safety of his own position, was a kindly man, and it really was sad to see the poor Archdeacon so pale and tired, the scratch on his cheek, even now not healed, giving him a strangely battered appearance. And how would Ryle have liked Mrs. Ryle to leave him?
"Romanticism, which dotes on ruins, shrinks from real restoration . . . a Latin Church in England which disowns the Pope is an absurdity." No, the future belongs to clear thinking and rigorous honesty of the intellect. Dr. Inge began life as the fag of Bishop Ryle at Eton the one now occupying the Deanery of St.
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