carried the adventure through I suppose a generous three-quarters must have been published. So it would be foolish of me to dwell at any length upon the gestation and genesis of the Archdeacon's book, since practically everybody who reads this one of mine has first-hand experience of these uncomfortable processes.
It is enough if I say that, five months later, the good man's tale was written and that no living soul but himself knew it. Yes, clandestine had been his dallying with the Muse, clandestine and therefore exquisite. Not a moment but had been delicious that he had filched, for this doubtful purpose, from hours properly attributable to the performance of his archidiaconal functions. And how many of such moments there were his recording angel—not the Archdeacon—had noted. Yes, this great Churchman, this pattern
