Jamieson to listen from
the extreme edge of his chair, Laurie continued to make mental
comments. He felt distinctly puzzled by the marked difference between
the prophet and his disciples. These were so shallow; this so
impressive by the most ordinary of all methods, and the most difficult
of imitation, that is, by sheer human personality. He could not grasp
the least common multiple of the two sides. Yet this man tolerated
these women, and, indeed, seemed very kind and friendly towards them.
He seemed to possess that sort of competence which rises from the fact
of having well-arranged ideas and complete certitude about them.
And at last a pause came. Mr. Vincent set down his cup for the second
time, refused buttered bun, and waited.
"Yes, do smoke, Mr. Vincent."
The man drew out his cigarette-case, smiling, offering it to the two
men. Laurie took one; the clergyman refused.
"And now, Mr. Vincent."
Again he smiled, in a half-embarrassed way.
"But no speeches, I think you said," he remarked.
"Oh! well, you know what I mean; just like friends, you know. Treat
us all like that."
Mrs. Stapleton rose, came nearer the circle, rustled down again, and
sank into an elaborate silence.
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