“Dodds,” I said, holding the cards in my hand, “supposing that a bishop for whom you always had a respect on account of the dignity of his office, were to say----” “I wouldn’t have any respect for a bishop on account of his office,” said Dodds. “Why don’t you deal?” “We’re Presbyterians,” said Mrs. Dodds. “That needn’t prevent you considering this case, for the word bishop is here used--that is to say, I am using it--to mean any eminent ecclesiastic. All right, I’m dealing as fast as I can. Supposing that a man of that kind, call him a bishop or anything else you like, were to say that boys and girls ought not to read ‘Ivanhoe’ on account of the danger to their faith and morals contained in that book, would you or would you not say that he, the bishop, not ‘Ivanhoe,’ was talking what in ordinary slang is called tommyrot?” I finished dealing and, after glancing rather inattentively at my cards, declared hearts. Dodds, who was sitting on my left, picked up his hand and doubled my hearts. He did so in a tone that convinced me that I had been rash in my declaration. He paid no attention whatever to my question about the bishop and “Ivanhoe.” It turned out that he had a remarkably good hand and he scored thirty-two below the line, which of course gave him the game. Mrs. Dodds, who was my partner, seemed temporarily soured, and while Dodds was explaining to us how well he had played, she took up the question about the bishop. “I’d be thinking,” she said, “that that bishop of yours had very little to do to be talking that way. I’d say he’d be the kind of man who’d declare hearts with no more than one honour on his hand and that the queen.” This rather nettled me, for I quite realized that my hand did not justify a heart declaration. I had made it inadvertently my mind being occupied with more important matters. “Of course,” I said, “you’re prejudiced in favour of Sir Walter Scott. You Scotch are all the same. A word against Sir Walter or Robbie Burns is enough for you. But I’ll put another case to you: Supposing a bishop--understanding the word as I’ve explained it--were to say that infant schools are a danger to public morality on account of the way that boys and girls are mixed up together in the same classrooms, would he, in your opinion----?” Dodds has a horribly coarse mind. He stopped dealing and grinned. Then he winked at the young engineer who sat opposite to him. He, I was pleased to see, had the grace to look embarrassed. Mrs. Dodds, who of course knows how her husband revels in anything which can be twisted into impropriety, interrupted me with a question asked in a very biting tone. “Is it chess you think you are playing the now, or is it bridge?”