‘Someone has to do that, I suppose,’ answers Stig curtly, and perhaps somewhat bitterly, in spite of himself.

“You sound rather bitter?’

‘Yes,’ replies Stig. ‘Forgive me. I didn’t mean it, but sometimes it does take hold of you and plague you.’

‘As something unjust? Yes, it is unjust too,’ adds the clergyman.

He has a moment of weakness, which drives him to make self-accusations in front of Stig, in order to feel the weight of them even more.

‘Do you think we don’t know it isn’t right to stand back wishing for things to be done that we can’t contribute to ourselves, can’t face up to for certain reasons that have nothing to do with our abilities? We are not ignorant of our power in contracting to be the servants of the Lord. We know very well how much it counts, when we say that something or other must be done.’

He pauses, as if waiting for Stig’s comment, but Stig remains silent, and he is forced to continue.

‘But we don’t want to do it ourselves. We can’t face it – even if we had the ability, as I said. It wouldn’t occur to us. But we want it to be done – by others, working in the slime, ready to drop, blessed by us. We push them on. We say it must be done. And it gives them sufficient strength – according to what you said a short while ago – and we know it.’

He pauses, waiting again for Stig to say something. But Stig sits in silence. His companion has perhaps been waiting for the opportunity to say all this, he thinks, so let him speak out as much as he likes. He’s in difficulties but he’s done good work, work that was needed along with everything else.

He has to begin again himself. ‘That’s how it is!’ he says appealingly.

‘Yes, I suppose it is,’ is all Stig says in reply. ‘Haven’t you anything else to say?’

Stig shakes his head. ‘I don’t think there’s any alternative. This is how it’s always been in this world. And all of us think you’re doing good wherever you are in the house.’

‘That may be. But this other matter remains. We keep out of the way when things have reached a certain point, and hand it all over because we think we’re too good and respectable.’

‘Well, we don’t expect anything else,’ replies Stig, again in the curt tone that he does not really want to use.

‘No, you don’t expect anything else,’ says the clergyman, bowing his head ‘That’s just what….’ He breaks off. ‘Sometimes one feels so contemptible,’ he continues. ‘And you don’t expect anything else.’

‘Well, when you put it that way it…’

Stig is interrupted.

‘You had the right to expect something else, naturally! It’s a terrible accusation if all you’ve expected is that we should say one thing and do another.’

Stig says: ‘We’re ready to believe that it’s gruelling enough as it is. Perplexing enough, in your situation. So we don’t expect miracles.’