He measured up the Abbe in his mind, analysed him, found the vulnerable spot in his nature, the avenue to the one place lighted by a lamp of humanity.

He leaned a hand upon the ledge of the chimney where he stood, and said, in a low voice: "Monsieur l'Abbe, it is sometimes the misfortune of just men to be terribly unjust.

'For conscience sake' is another name for prejudice--for those antipathies which, natural to us, are, at the same time, trap-doors, for our just intentions.

You, Monsieur, have a radical antipathy to those men who are unable to see or to feel what you were privileged to see and feel from the time of your birth.

You know that you are right.