
the Church is becoming: I know what latitude it permits in its servants. But
what do you propose to yourself?«
    »Precisely what you call the work of the civiliser - to attack sham ideals.«
    »As for instance -?«
    »The authority of the mob,« answered Peak, suavely.
    »Your clericalism is political, then?«
    »To a great extent.«
    »I discern a vague sort of consistency in this. You regard the Church
formulas as merely symbolical - useful for the purposes of the day?«
    »Rather for the purposes of eternity.«
    »In the human sense.«
    »In every sense.«
    Warricombe perceived that no directness of questioning would elicit literal
response, and on the whole this relieved him. To hear Godwin Peak using the
language of a fervent curate would have excited in him something more than
disgust. It did not seem impossible that a nature like Peak's - intellectually
arrogant, vehemently antipopular - should have been attracted by the traditions,
the social prestige, of the Anglican Church; nor at all unlikely that a mind so
constituted should justify a seeming acceptance of dogmas, which in the strict
sense it despised. But he was made uneasy by his ignorance of Peak's private
life during the years since their parting at College. He did not like to think
of the possible establishment of intimacy between this man of low origin,
uncertain career, boundless ambition, and the household of Martin Warricombe.
There could be no doubt that Peak had decided to go to Exeter because of the
social prospects recently opened to him. In the vulgar phrase, he had probably
taken stock of Mr. Warricombe's idiosyncrasy, and saw therein a valuable
opportunity for a theological student, who at the same time was a devotee of
natural science. To be sure, the people at Exeter could be put on their guard.
On the other hand, Peak had plainly avowed his desire to form social connections
of the useful kind; in his position such an aim was essential, a mere matter of
course.
    Godwin's voice interrupted this train of thought.
    »Let me ask you a plain question. You have twice been kind enough to
introduce me to your home as a friend of yours. Am I guilty of presumption in
hoping that your parents will continue to regard me as an acquaintance? I trust
there's no need to assure you that I know the meaning of discretion.«
    An appeal to Buckland's generosity seldom failed. Yes, it was true that he
had more than once encouraged the hope now frankly
