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XXXIX






          he Vicar of Blackstable would have nothing to do with
       Tthe scheme which Philip laid before him. He had a great
       idea that one should stick to whatever one had begun. Like
       all weak men he laid an exaggerated stress on not changing
       one’s mind.
         ‘You chose to be an accountant of your own free will,’ he
       said.
         ‘I just took that because it was the only chance I saw of
       getting  up  to  town.  I  hate  London,  I  hate  the  work,  and
       nothing will induce me to go back to it.’
          Mr. and Mrs. Carey were frankly shocked at Philip’s idea
       of being an artist. He should not forget, they said, that his
       father and mother were gentlefolk, and painting wasn’t a
       serious profession; it was Bohemian, disreputable, immoral.
       And then Paris!
         ‘So long as I have anything to say in the matter, I shall not
       allow you to live in Paris,’ said the Vicar firmly.
          It was a sink of iniquity. The scarlet woman and she of
       Babylon flaunted their vileness there; the cities of the plain
       were not more wicked.
         ‘You’ve been brought up like a gentleman and Christian,
       and I should be false to the trust laid upon me by your dead
       father and mother if I allowed you to expose yourself to
       such temptation.’
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