“Oh, I’ve been in with parsons since I was at Sunday-school. Well, don’t look so surprized. You don’t suppose my mother wanted me hanging round all the afternoon! Now I very soon found out that one can always get round a High Church slum parson, and very often a Catholic priest by turning over a new leaf and confessing. It gets them every time, and being by nature generous, it gets their pockets. That’s why I gave up Dissenters and fashionable Vicars. Dissenters want more than they give, and fashionable Vicars are too clever. That’s why they become fashionable Vicars, I suppose,” said Meats pensively. “But you couldn’t go on taking in even priests for ever,” Michael objected. “Ah, now I’ll tell you something. I do feel religious sometimes,” Meats declared solemnly. “And I do really want to lead a new life. But it doesn’t last. It’s like love. Never mind, perhaps I’ll be lucky enough to die when I’m working off a religious stretch. I give you my word, Fane, that often in these fits I’ve felt like committing suicide just to cheat the devil. Would you believe that?” “I don’t think you’re as bad as you make out,” said Michael sententiously. “Oh, yes, I am,” smiled the other. “I’m rotten bad. But I reckon the first man I meet in hell will be my father, and if it’s possible to hurt anyone down there more than they’re being hurt already, I’ll do it. But look here, I shall get the hump with this blooming conversation you’ve started me off on. Come along, drink up and have another, and tell us something about yourself.” “Oh, there’s nothing to tell,” Michael sighed. “My existence is pretty dull after yours.” “I suppose it is,” said Meats, as if struck by a new thought. “Everything has its compensations, as they say.” “Frightfully dull,” Michael vowed. “Why, here am I still at school! You know I wouldn’t half mind going down underneath, as you call it, for a while. I believe I’d like it.” “If you knew you could get up again all right,” commented Meats. “Oh, of course,” Michael answered. “I don’t suppose Æneas would have cared much about going down to hell, if he hadn’t been sure he could come up again quite safely.” “Well, I don’t know your friend with the Jewish name,” said Meats. “But I’ll lay he didn’t come out much wiser than he went in if he knew he could get out all right by pressing a button and taking the first lift up.” “Oh, well, I was only speaking figuratively,” Michael explained. “So was I. The same here, and many of them, old chap,” retorted Meats enigmatically. “Ah, you don’t think I’m in earnest. You think I’m fooling,” Michael complained. “Oh, yes, I think you’d like to take a peep without letting go of Nurse’s apron,” sneered Meats. “Well, perhaps one day you’ll see me underneath,” Michael almost threatened.