Part 3

She had some idea of putting these subtle and difficult issues to the

chaplain when she was warned of his advent. But she had not reckoned

with the etiquette of Canongate. She got up, as she had been told to

do, at his appearance, and he amazed her by sitting down, according to

custom, on her stool. He still wore his hat, to show that the days

of miracles and Christ being civil to sinners are over forever. She

perceived that his countenance was only composed by a great effort, his

features severely compressed. He was ruffled, and his ears were red,

no doubt from some adjacent controversy. He classified her as he seated

himself.

“Another young woman, I suppose,” he said, “who knows better than her

Maker about her place in the world. Have you anything to ask me?”

Ann Veronica readjusted her mind hastily. Her back stiffened. She

produced from the depths of her pride the ugly investigatory note of

the modern district visitor. “Are you a special sort of clergyman,” she

said, after a pause, and looking down her nose at him, “or do you go to

the Universities?”

“Oh!” he said, profoundly.

He panted for a moment with unuttered replies, and then, with a scornful

gesture, got up and left the cell.

So that Ann Veronica was not able to get the expert advice she certainly

needed upon her spiritual state.