common-sense view of these things, but I'm bound to say I think you're on
the wrong tack, too. Didn't Christ have compassion on people like that?
Didn't He eat and drink with publicans and sinners?"

"Yes, to convert them. You can't name the two things in the same breath.
He had compassion on the multitude of hungry women and children and
misguided men, but He hated sin. You can't deny that." Peter recalled his
sermon; he was rather indignant, unreasonably, that the suggestion should
have been made.

"So?" said the other laconically. "Well, you know more about it than
I do, I suppose. Come on; we go down here."

They parted at the corner by the river again, and Peter set out for his
long walk home alone. It was a lovely evening of stars, cool, but not too
cold, and at first the streets were full of people. He kept to the curb
or walked in the road till he was out of the town, taking salutes
automatically, his thoughts far away. The little _cafes debits_ were
crowded, largely by Tommies. He was not accosted again, for he walked
fast, but he saw enough as he went.

More than an hour later he swung into camp, and went to his room, lit a
candle, and shut the door. Tunic off, he sat on the edge of the camp-bed
and stared at the light. He seemed to have lived a year in a day, and he
felt unclean. He thought of Hilda, and then actually smiled, for Hilda
and this life seemed so incredibly far apart. He could not conceive of
her even knowing of its existence. Yet, he supposed, she knew, as he had
done, that such things were. He had even preached about them.... It
suddenly struck him that he had talked rot in the pulpit, talked of
things of which he knew nothing. Yet, of course, his attitude had been
right.

He wondered if he should speak to Mackay, and, so wondering, fell forward
on his knees.

CHAPTER IV

Hilda's religion was, like the religion of a great many Englishwomen of
her class, of a very curious sort. She never, of course, analysed it
herself, and conceivably she would object very strongly to the
description set down here, but in practical fact there is no doubt about
the analysis. To begin with, this conventional and charming young lady of
Park Lane had in common with Napoleon Bonaparte that Christianity meant
more to them both as the secret of social order than as the mystery of
the Incarnation. Hilda was convinced that a decent and orderly life
rested on certain agreements and conclusions in respect