"Out of the mouths of babes and sucklings! _Très bien!_ But--reverend
gentlemen of St. Joseph's! I shall have to look for telergic power in my
acquaintance Randall Cantuar, when I want it! By Jove!"
"If in doubt, study Lady Sophia." As Malling thought over these
parting words, he realized their wisdom and wondered at his own
short-sightedness.
He had sent his cards to Onslow Gardens after the luncheon with the
Hardings. He wished now he had called and asked for Lady Sophia. But
doubtless he would have an opportunity of being with her again. If she
did not offer him one, he would make one for himself.
He longed to see her with Henry Chichester.
During the days that elapsed before "Hornton Street, Wednesday" he
considered a certain matter with sedulous care. His interview with
Stepton had not been fruitless. Stepton always made an effect on his
mind. Casual and jerky though his manner was, obstinate as were his
silences at certain moments, fragmentary as was his speech, he had a
way of darting at the essential that set him apart from most men. Malling
remembered a horrible thing he had once seen in the Sahara, a running
gazelle killed by a falcon. The falcon, rising high in the blue air,
had followed the gazelle, had circled, poised, then shot down and, with
miraculous skill, struck into the gazelle's eye. Unerringly from above
it had chosen out of the vast desert the home for its cruel beak.
Somewhat in similar fashion, so Malling thought, Stepton rose above
things, circled, poised, sank, and struck into the heart of the truth
unerringly.
Perhaps he was able to do this because he was able to mount, falconwise!
Malling would have given a good deal to have Stepton with him in this
affair, despite the professor's repellent attitude toward the amateur.
Well, if there really was anything in it, if strangeness rose out of the
orthodox bosom of St. Joseph's, if he--Malling--found himself walking in
thick darkness, he meant to bring Stepton into the matter, whether at
Stepton's desire or against it. Meanwhile he would see if there was
enlightenment in Hornton Street.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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