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p in Mr. Barter respected that desire. "It's a first-rate magnum," he said. Mr. Pendyce filled his Rector's glass. "I forget if you knew Paramor. He was before your time. He was at Harrow with me." The Rector took a prolonged sip. "I shall be in the way," he said. "I'll take myself off'." The Squire put out his hand affectionately. "No, no, Barter, don't you go. It's all safe with you. I mean to act. I can't stand this uncertainty. My wife's cousin Vigil is coming too--he's her guardian. I wired for him. You know Vigil? He was about your time." The Rector turned crimson, and set his underlip. Having scented his enemy, nothing would now persuade him to withdraw; and the conviction that he had only done his duty, a little shaken by the Squire's confidence, returned as though by magic. "Yes, I know him." "We'll have it all out here," muttered Mr. Pendyce, "over this port. There's the carriage. Get up, John." The spaniel John rose heavily, looked sardonically at Mr. Barter, and again flopped down against his master's leg. "Get up, John," said Mr. Pendyce again. The spaniel John snored. 'If I move, you'll move too, and uncertainty will begin for me again,' he seemed to say. Mr. Pendyce disengaged his leg, rose, and went to the door. Before reaching it he turned and came back to the table. "Barter," he said, "I'm not thinking of myself--I'm not thinking of myself--we've been here for generations--it's the principle." His face had the least twist to one side, as though conforming to a kink in his philosophy; his eyes looked sad and restless. And the Rector, watching the door for the sight of his enemy, also thought: 'I'm not thinking of myself--I'm satisfied that I did right--I'm Rector of this parish it's the principle.' The spaniel John gave three short barks, one for each of the persons who entered the room. They were Mrs. Pendyce, Mr. Paramor, and Gregory Vigil. "Where's George?" asked the Squire, but no one answered him. The Rector, who had resumed his seat, stared at a little gold cross which he had taken out of his waistcoat pocket. Mr. Paramor lifted a vase and sniffed at the rose it contained; Gregory walked to the window. When Mr. Pendyce realised that his son had not come, he went to the door and held it open. "Be good enough to take John out, Margery," he said. "John!" The spaniel John, seeing what lay before him, rolled over on his back. Mrs. Pendyce fixed her
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