In short, he was one of
the few to whom Mahony could speak of his own haphazard efforts at
criticising the Pentateuch.
The Archdeacon was wont to respond with his genial smile: "Ah, it's all
very well for you, doctor!--you're a free lance. I am constrained by my
cloth.--And frankly, for the rest of us, that kind of thing's too--
well, too disturbing. Especially when we have nothing better to put in
its place."
Doctor and parson--the latter, considerably over six feet, made Mahony,
who was tall enough, look short and doubly slender--walked side by side
for nearly a mile, flitting from topic to topic: the rivalry that
prevailed between Ballarats East and West; the seditious uprising in
India, where both had relatives; the recent rains, the prospects for
grazing. The last theme brought them round to Dandaloo and its unhappy
owner. The Archdeacon expressed the outsider's surprise at the strength
of Glendinning's constitution, and the lively popular sympathy that was
felt for his wife.
"One's heart aches for the poor little lady, struggling to bear up as
though nothing were the matter. Between ourselves, doctor"--and Mr.
Long took off his straw hat to let the air play round his head--
"between ourselves, it's a thousand pities he doesn't just pop off the
hooks in one of his bouts. Or that some of you medical gentlemen don't
use your knowledge to help things on."
He let out his great hearty laugh as he spoke, and his companion's
involuntary stiffening went unnoticed.
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