m, he turned and waited, leaning
on his stick. The two men had not met since a Commemoration Ball when
young Dinham led his friend proudly up to a beautiful girl, his bride that
was to be. She died a bare six weeks later; and from that day her lover
had buried himself with his woe.

"George!"

"How d'ye do, Jack? I had to turn out to listen, you see--_ecce quam
sempiterna vox juventutis!_ You have improved on your old debating style,
having, as I gather, found belief."

The Inspector flushed. "Ah, you gathered that?"

"Yes, I haven't lost the knack of understanding those I once understood.
Not that it needed anything of the sort. Man, you were admirably
straight--and gentle, too--you that used to be intolerant. You mustn't
think, though, that I'm convinced; I can't afford to be."

"You mean--?"

"I mean that, if you are right, I ought to be a sun worshipper, and sit
daily at dawn on top of my tower yonder, warming my hands against the glow
of children's faces, trooping to school. Whereas the little beggars run
wild and rob my orchards, and I don't remember at this moment my parish
schoolmaster's name."

The Inspector bethought him of the broken bridge in his friend's life--the
bridge by which men cross over from self into love of a new generation--
and was silent.

"But look here," Sir George went on, "the fun was your preaching the
doctrine in that temple. You didn't know the man who built it. He died a
week or two ago; a man of character, I tell you, and a big fellow, too, in
his way."

"I have heard of this Rosewarne. All I know of him is that he's to be
thanked for the best-fitted school, for its size, in all Cornwall.
I'm not talking of expense merely; he used thought, down to the details.
When you begin to study these things, you recognise thought, down to the
raising or lowering of a desk, or the screws in a cupboard. You don't get
your fittings right by giving _carte blanche_ to a wholesale firm."

"Of course you don't. But what, think you, had the man in view? I tell
you, Jack, you are a fossil beside him. You talk of making good citizens,
quite in the old Hellenic style. Oh yes, I recognised the incurable
Aristotle in your exhortation, though you _did_ address it to two score of
rustic British children. But, my dear fellow, you are a philosopher in a
barbarian's court, and your barbarian has been reading his Darwin.
Where you see a troop of little angels--"

"_Non Angeli sed Angli_