The grins died out of the upturned faces. They
looked at him with amazement, with horror, yes--with respect.
"But you have been taught your catechism--to--to believe in God?"
"No."
"But the hymn--at least you could have sung the hymn, my poor boy. You
can read, can't you?"
"No."
The awe passed before a storm of unchecked laughter. For one
spectacular moment he had held them all helpless, every one of them, by
the sheer audacity of his admissions. Now with one word he had
fallen--an ignominious, comic outcast. The clergyman turned away,
shaken but satisfied.
"You have a great deal to learn. I doubt if Mr. Morton quite
realized---- A heavy task in front of you, too, Mr. Ricardo. One
word, please----"
They spoke in undertones. Robert slid back into his seat. He could
feel exultant glances sting and pierce him on every side. And yet when
the door closed he had to look up. He was driven by a relentless
curiosity to meet the worst. Mr. Ricardo had resumed his place. He
did not so much as glance at Robert. He clung on to the lapels of his
coat and blinked up at the window as though nothing had happened. But
there was something impish twitching at the corners of his nervous
mouth.
"My delightful young friends," he said, "you will be kind enough to
leave Stonehouse in peace both now and hereafter. I know your amiable
propensities, and my own conviction is that he is probably worth the
pack of you.
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