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Updated: June 26, 2025
He held out his hand, which Stepton took, and added, "I'll just say one thing." "Do!" "It isn't always cowardice which causes a man to keep a secret a secret which might be of value to the world." "I never said it was." "No; but still you spoke just now of my sermons. I preached one not very long ago which I have typed myself. If I send it to you do you think you could find time to read it?"
"You never did, sir! He was so firm, wasn't he, above every one! Even his rector used to look to him and be guided by him. And now he's as gentle and weak almost as a new-born child, as they say." Malling thought of Stepton. Had he looked forward to some such change? "Perhaps I could console Mr. Chichester in his grief," he said. "Will you take him this card and ask if I can see him? I knew Mr.
Chichester leaned forward to the professor. "Fear followed," he said in a withdrawn voice. "Fear!" said Stepton, clearing his throat with a loud, rasping noise. "Whenever I was with Marcus Harding in any public place I was now companioned by fear. I dreaded unspeakably lest others should begin to see what I saw.
"It seems to me," he said, "that we clergymen have a special reason for desiring Stepton, and all Stepton's assistants, to make progress. It is true, of course, that we live by faith. And nothing can be more beautiful than a childlike faith in the Great Being who is above all worlds, in the anima mundi.
"But this letter comes too late." What answer should he return to the rector? He hated insincerity, but on this occasion he stooped to it. He had not only the fear of Stepton upon him; he had also the desire not to add to the deep misery of Marcus Harding. This was his answer: Cadogan Square, June . Dear Mr.
"Have you made many experiments yourself, may I ask?" he said very bluntly. The clergyman started, and was obviously embarrassed by the question. "I! Oh, I was speaking generally. I am a very busy man, you see. What with my church and my parish, and one thing and another, I get very little time for outside things. Still I am greatly interested, I confess, in all that Stepton is doing." "Does Mr.
Chichester sat down. It had been evident to Stepton from the moment when his visitor came in that he was in great agony of mind. There was in his face a sort of still and abject misery which Stepton thought exceedingly promising. As he turned round, leaning his sharp elbow on his writing-table, Stepton was considering how to exploit this misery for the furthering of his purpose.
Malling understood that the professor was beginning his "approach." A week went by, and at a man's dinner, Malling chanced to sit next to Blandford Sikes, one of the most noted physicians of the day. In the course of conversation the doctor remarked: "Is your friend Stepton going to set up in Harley Street?" "Not that I know of," said Malling. "What makes you ask?"
"I will if you wish it." "I shall be in after seven." "Very well." "I dare say you will be surprised," observed Stepton. "I see my bus." Malling left him imperatively waving his arm, and, turning, walked toward Kensington. What were his expectations? He did not know. Stepton had upset his mind. As he went on slowly he strove to regain his mental equilibrium.
As his guest walked away the rector stood, bareheaded, looking after him, then, as Malling turned the corner of the gardens, with a heavy sigh, and the unconscious gesture of a man greatly troubled in mind, he stepped back into his hall and shut the door behind him. A week later, Mailing paid a visit to Professor Stepton.
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