"Good-evening, Mr. Strathmore," Rangely said. "Are you making a
retreat? I thought Lent was the time for that."
The other smiled with that kindly benevolence which was characteristic.
"Ah, Mr. Rangely," he responded, extending his hand. "I am glad to see
you. Will you share my retirement?"
"Thank you," Rangely answered, stepping into the recess. "A retreat is
especially grateful to a journalist. We get so tired that even a moment
of respite is welcome."
Mr. Strathmore smiled more genially than ever.
"Yes; you journalists are expected to know everything, and it must be
wearing to have to learn all that there is to know."
"Oh, it's easy enough to learn instead how to appear to know."
The clergyman regarded him with a quizzical look.
"Is that the way it is done? I've often wondered at the infallibility
of your guild."
"A trick, of the trade, I assure you. We have to seem to be infallible
to secure any attention at all, you see; and we soon learn the knack of
it."
The clergyman, as if unconsciously, drew back a little farther into the
shadow of the heavy draperies veiling the nook in which they stood.
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