Two trifles, indeed, completed though they
scarcely changed my conception of the Shyster. The
first was observed in Gloucester, where we spent
Sunday, and I proposed we should hear service in the
cathedral. To my surprise, the creature had an ISM
of his own, to which he was loyal; and he left me to go
alone to the cathedral--or perhaps not to go at all--
and stole off down a deserted alley to some Bethel or
Ebenezer of the proper shade. When we met again at
lunch, I rallied him, and he grew restive.
"You need employ no circumlocutions with me, Mr. Dodd,"
he said suddenly. "You regard my behaviour from an
unfavourable point of view: you regard me, I much fear,
as hypocritical."
I was somewhat confused by the attack. "You know what
I think of your trade," I replied lamely and coarsely.
"Excuse me, if I seem to press the subject," he
continued; "but if you think my life erroneous, would
you have me neglect the means of grace? Because you
consider me in the wrong on one point, would you have
me place myself on the wrong in all? Surely, sir, the
church is for the sinner.
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