He was not important
enough in his own eyes for that, but he did not choose to go
farther.
"That's a fine old church," he said, pointing to the dark mass
invading the blue--so solid, yet so clear in outline.
"I am glad the mason-work is to your mind," returned Bascombe,
almost compassionately. "It must be some satisfaction, perhaps
consolation to you."
Before he had thus concluded the sentence a little scorn had crept
into his tone.
"You make some allusion which I do not quite apprehend," said the
curate.
"Now, I am going to be honest with you," said Bascombe abruptly, and
stopping, he turned towards his companion, and took the
full-flavoured Havannah from his lips. "I like you," he went on,
"for you seem reasonable; and besides, a man ought to speak out what
he thinks. So here goes!--Tell me honestly--do you believe one word
of all that!"
And he in his turn pointed in the direction of the great tower.
The curate was taken by surprise and made no answer: it was as if he
had received a sudden blow in the face. Recovering himself
presently, however, he sought room to pass the question without
direct encounter.
"How came the thing there?" he said, once more indicating the
church-tower.
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