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to come? Temple said, his eyes searching Glynn’s eyes.
Glynn coughed and said gently, holding back with diffi-
culty the nervous titter in his voice and moving his umbrella
at every word:
—And, as you remark, if it is thus, I ask emphatically
whence comes this thusness.
—Because the church is cruel like all old sinners, Temple
said.
—Are you quite orthodox on that point, Temple? Dixon
said suavely.
—Saint Augustine says that about unbaptized children
going to hell, Temple answered, because he was a cruel old
sinner too.
—I bow to you, Dixon said, but I had the impression that
limbo existed for such cases.
—Don’t argue with him, Dixon, Cranly said brutally.
Don’t talk to him or look at him. Lead him home with a
sugan the way you’d lead a bleating goat.
—Limbo! Temple cried. That’s a fine invention too. Like
hell.
—But with the unpleasantness left out, Dixon said.
He turned smiling to the others and said:
—I think I am voicing the opinions of all present in say-
ing so much.
—You are, Glynn said in a firm tone. On that point Ire-
land is united.
He struck the ferrule of his umbrella on the stone floor
of the colonnade.
—Hell, Temple said. I can respect that invention of the

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