me a church is
always first a sanctuary, as I have just remarked to Mrs. Dashwood.
Secondly, it is the artistic triumph of some blooming engineer. Nowadays
our church architects aren't engineers; they don't _create_ a building,
they just run it up from books. Our modern churches are failures not
because we aren't religious, but because our architects are not big
enough men to be great engineers."

"Ah, yes," said May, looking up with relief at Bingham's swarthy
features.

"I deny that we are religious, as a whole," said Boreham, stoutly.

"You may not be, my dear fellow," said Bingham, in his oily voice; "but
then you are the only genuine conservative I meet nowadays. You are
still faithful to the 'Eighties'--still impressed by the discovery that
religion don't drop out of the sky as we thought it did, but had its
origin in the funk and cunning of the humanoid ape."

May was standing between the two men, and all three had their backs to
the cathedral, just as if they had emerged from its doors. And it was at
this moment that she caught a sudden sight through the open archway of
two figures passing along the terrace outside; one figure she did not
know, but which she thought might be the Dean of Christ Church, and the
other figure was one which was becoming to her more significant than any
other in the world. He saw her; he raised his hat, and was already gone
before she had time to think. When she did think it came upon her, with
a rush of remorse, that he must have thought that she had been looking
over the cathedral with her two companions, after having refused his
guidance on the pretext that she wished to be alone. Yes, there was in
his face surely surprise, surprise and reproach! How could she explain?
He had gone! She vaguely heard the two men beside her speaking; she
heard Boreham's protesting voice but did not follow his words.

"While we are engaged in peaceful persuasion," said Bingham in her ear,
"you are white with fatigue."

"I'm not tired," she said, "not really--only I think I will go to the
rooms where Lady Dashwood is to meet me. Will you show me them?"

She spoke to Bingham, and touched his arm with her hand as if to ask for
his support.

Boreham saw that he was excluded. It was obvious, and he stood staring
after them, full of indignation.

"I shall see you later," he said in a dry voice. How did it all happen?

As soon as they were on the terrace, May released Bingham's arm.

"You want t