"I hope the plans for the new church are getting on famously?" "Yes," he said apathetically. "It's doing very well." "You must bring out the sketches and let me see them. I'm tremendously interested." "I will--mail them to you," he said heavily. Slowly, as if reluctant, he took her hand again, held it just a moment, and then, with a suddenness that overwhelmed her, seized her in his arms and kissed her hotly on the lips. Then, like a shadow, he fled. For a long time after he had gone Judith sat on the balustrade, listening to the myriad noises of the night, and pondering on what had befallen her. It had been a very eventful day. She smiled as she pondered on its contrasts. But she sobered as she thought of Imrie. She felt her cheek grow warm as she recalled his kiss. Then a faint smile widened her lips at the impetuosity of it. It was so unlike him. He had never shown such--she knew he would call it disrespect--but that was not the word she would use. She hoped he would not apologise. That would spoil it all. Perhaps--if he were a little less respectful.... She could love Imrie the man, she reflected, as she walked slowly into the house. But Imrie the clergyman--she knew for a certainty that that was impossible. CHAPTER IV OIL AND WATER I "You see, Miss Wynrod, I'm as sound as a nut. I can gambol like a lamb. I am ready again to dance to the world's piping." It was just six weeks to a day after his introduction to her that Good made this announcement, and executed a lumbering step of his own devising, to prove its truth. "It's now the season of the sere and yellow leaf. There's work to be done. I must be about it," he added more seriously. "If you work as you gambol, I shouldn't think you'd be much in demand," laughed Judith. "Quite so," admitted Good, blithely. "But if my feet are clumsy my wits are nimble. I guess I can find someone to hire them at twelve dollars per week." "Twelve dollars a week! You don't mean to say...." Good raised his eyebrows. "Why, surely. Does that surprise you? Of course," he added half apologetically, "that doesn't represent my own valuation, by any means. But _The World_ is a poor paper for poor people. It couldn't pay much." "That's all very well," she cried, "but why did you work for it?" "It needed me," he said simply, and she was silenced. There were stranger things in this man revealed at every conversation. She had never known anyone before who toiled because someone "needed" him. She was shamed by her own amazement. "I guess I'll go on the 10.46," he said. "No," she cried. "You won't." He looked up at her in some surprise. "That is, you won't," she added more mildly, "if you care to do me a favour." "What an absurd 'if.' Give your orders." "Well, I have some people coming to dinner on Wednesday. I--I--want them to know you." "What a treat!" he said sarcastically.