"Can you see the bridge, Colonel?" asked the Chief. "The mist comes and goes. Sometimes it seems as though it were not there." And how should he best persuade his fellow-countrymen to leave off believing in this supernatural element? Looking at the matter from a practical point of view, he thought the Archbishop of Canterbury afforded the most promising key to the situation. It lay between him and the Pope. The Pope was perhaps best in theory, but in practice the Archbishop of Canterbury would do sufficiently well. If he could only manage to sprinkle a pinch of salt, as it were, on the Archbishop鈥檚 tail, he might convert the whole Church of England to free thought by a coup de main. There must be an amount of cogency which even an Archbishop 鈥?an Archbishop whose perceptions had never been quickened by imprisonment for assault 鈥?would not be able to withstand. When brought face to face with the facts, as he, Ernest, could arrange them, his Grace would have no resource but to admit them; being an honourable man he would at once resign his Archbishopric, and Christianity would become extinct in England within a few months鈥?time. This, at any rate, was how things ought to be. But all the time Ernest had no confidence in the Archbishop鈥檚 not hopping off just as the pinch was about to fall on him, and this seemed so unfair that his blood boiled at the thought of it. If this was to be so, he must try if he could not fix him by the judicious use of bird-lime or a snare, or throw the salt on his tail from an ambuscade. 鈥楤ibelots,鈥?suggested Alice. 国产成 人 综合 亚洲,亚洲国产免费综合网,国产综合亚洲区 The essay, perhaps on account of the passage about the Psalms, created quite a sensation, and on the whole was well received. Ernest鈥檚 friends praised it more highly than it deserved, and he was himself very proud of it, but he dared not show it at Battersby. He knew also that he was now at the end of his tether; this was his one idea (I feel sure he had caught more than half of it from other people), and now he had not another thing left to write about. He found himself cursed with a small reputation which seemed to him much bigger than it was, and a consciousness that he could never keep it up. Before many days were over he felt his unfortunate essay to be a white elephant to him, which he must feed by hurrying into all sorts of frantic attempts to cap his triumph, and, as may be imagined, these attempts were failures. 鈥淢erci, m鈥檚ieur. Bon soir, m鈥檚ieur,鈥?said the perfect waiter. But he would have given much to be able to dispose of the horrible coins otherwise than by thrusting them in his trouser pocket, to be able, for instance, to hurl them at the triple sausage neck of the departing donor; for he knew the starry, humorous eyes of the divinity were fixed on him. He felt hot and clammy and did not dare look round. And the hideous thought flashed through his mind: 鈥淲ill she offer me a tip when she leaves?鈥? He delighted in her, in the astonishing irony of her calling him 鈥榮ir鈥?again. He had deserved it too, for he had spoken to her with the old office manner.