And still Wyat Carp read on and on, skirting the outer circle of
forbidden subjects, leading up to closed doors he made no attempt to
open, expatiating voluminously on conditions that all the world knew,
elucidating the obvious, ranging from one platitude to another--and
avoiding the vital and concrete as though it were poisonous. And as Mr.
Carp read Mary became oppressed with his total futility.

Mrs. Ives risked a hasty glance at her jeweled wrist watch.

"Doesn't the man know it's nearly time to dine?" she wondered.

Grove Evans, with a dinner engagement at the club and a place bespoken in
a quiet poker game afterward, squirmed in his chair and cursed Wyat Carp
silently. Finally, with a last rhetorical flourish, Mr. Carp quite
suddenly ended. He sat down amid a murmur of applause.

"Wonderful," exclaimed Mrs. Ives. She was agreeably astonished that Mr.
Carp should ever have finished.

"Very full, concise and to the point," was Miss Laforth's verdict.

"Great!" announced Grove Evans, really delighted, for he would be in time
for dinner at the club after all.

The Rev. Thomas Brattle gazed about the circle with a bland smile. "I am
glad," he said, "to have my judgment indorsed by such excellent critics."

Then, rapping gently on the table, he glanced about him. "A motion is in
order before we adjourn, my friends," he stated, expectantly.

"I move Mr. Carp's report be adopted as it stands," said Marvin Lattimer
breathlessly. He had waited patiently all afternoon to speak just those
words. His business judgment, as applied to social affairs, had taught
him the wisdom of getting into the record. He was only a recent confidant
of this inner circle of All Souls and he aspired to remain where he was.
Besides, it would be something to tell the socially ambitious Mrs.
Lattimer when he got home. There was a second from Miss Laforth.

"You hear the motion," breathed the reverend chairman. "Those in favor
will please say 'aye.'" As they all responded he beamed upon them. He
turned with a deprecatory glance to Carp. "And as a matter of form, those
contrary minded will please signify by saying 'no.'"

He waited a moment. Quite clearly and distinctly Mary Randall spoke:

"No!"

The tiny monosyllable seemed to echo and reecho through the high-ceiled
room. There was a most embarrassing silence.

"Mary," faltered Mrs. Randall.

Mary came over and pressed her hand against her aunt's shoulder. "Believe
me," she said,