Chapters (40)
- THE INSIDE OF THE CUP
- *
- Contents
- VOLUME 1
- Chapter I - The Waring Problems
- Chapter II - Mr. Langmaid's Mission
- Chapter III - The Primrose Path
- Chapter IV - Some Riddles of the Twentieth Century
- VOLUME 2
- Chapter V - The Rector Has More Food for Thought
- Chapter VI - "Watchman, What of the Night?"
- Chapter VII - The Kingdoms of the World
- Chapter VIII - The Line of Least Resistance
- VOLUME 3
- Chapter IX - The Divine Discontent
- Chapter X - The Messenger in the Church
- Chapter XI - The Lost Parishioner
- Chapter XII - The Woman of the Song
- VOLUME 4
- Chapter XIII - Winterbourne
- Chapter XIV - A Saturday Afternoon
- Chapter XV - The Crucible
- Chapter XVI - Amid the Encircling Gloom
- VOLUME 5
- Chapter XVII - Reconstruction
- Chapter XVIII - The Riddle of Causation
- Chapter XIX - Mr. Goodrich Becomes a Partisan
- VOLUME 6
- Chapter XX - The Arraignment
- Chapter XXI - Alison Goes to Church
- Chapter XXII - "Which Say to the Seers, See Not"
- VOLUME 7
- Chapter XXIII - The Choice
- Chapter XXIV - The Vestry Meets
- Chapter XXV - "Rise, Crowned with Light!"
- Chapter XXVI - The Current of Life
- VOLUME 8
- Chapter XXVII - Retribution
- Chapter XXVIII - Light
- Afterword
"Well, step into my office a minute. It does me good, to see you again, upon my word, and I can't let you get by without a little pow-wow."
Mr. Plimpton's trust company, in Vine Street, resembled a Greek temple. Massive but graceful granite columns adorned its front, while within it was partitioned off with polished marble and ornamental grills. In the rear, guarded by the desks and flanked by the compartments of various subordinates, was the president's private sanctum, and into this holy of holies Mr. Plimpton led the way with the simple, unassuming genial air of the high priest of modern finance who understands men. The room was eloquent almost to affectation of the system and order of great business, inasmuch as it betrayed not the least sign of a workshop. On the dark oak desk were two leather-bound books and a polished telephone. The walls were panelled, there was a stone fireplace with andirons set, a deep carpet spread over the tessellated floor, and three leather-padded armchairs, one of which Mr. Plimpton hospitably drew forward for the rector. He then produced a box of cigars.
"You don't smoke, Mr. Hodder. I always forget. That's the way you manage to keep yourself in such good shape." He drew out a gold match box and seated himself with an air of gusto opposite his guest. "And you haven't had a vacation, they tell me."
"On the contrary," said the rector, "McCrae has taken the services all summer."
"But you've been in the city!" Mr. Plimpton exclaimed, puffing at his cigar.
"Yes, I've been in the city."
"Well, well, I'll bet you haven't been idle. Just between us, as friends, Mr. Hodder, I've often wondered if you didn't work too hard—there's such a thing as being too conscientious, you know. And I've an idea that the rest of the vestry think so. Mr. Parr, for instance. We know when we've got a good thing, and we don't want to wear you out. Oh, we can appreciate your point of view, and admire it. But a little relaxation—eh? It's too bad that you couldn't have seen your way to take that cruise—Mr. Parr was all cut up about it. I guess you're the only man among all of us fairly close to him, who really knows him well," said Mr. Plimpton, admiringly. "He thinks a great deal of you, Mr. Hodder. By the way, have you seen him since he got back?"
"No," Hodder answered.