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"
A
constriction
of
Ranulf
,
Your
Grace
.
"
"
I
see
.
"
"
I
'm
going
to
miss
you
greatly
,
Father
,
"
said
Archbishop
Cluny
Dark
,
piling
jam
and
whipped
cream
on
half
a
scone
and
popping
it
whole
into
his
mouth
.
Father
Ralph
laughed
at
him
.
"
You
place
me
in
a
dilemma
,
Your
Grace
!
Here
I
am
seated
between
my
old
master
and
my
new
,
and
if
I
answer
to
please
one
,
I
must
displease
the
other
.
But
may
I
say
I
shall
miss
Your
Grace
,
while
looking
forward
to
serving
Your
Grace
?
"
It
was
well
said
,
a
diplomat
's
answer
.
Archbishop
di
Contini-Verchese
began
to
think
he
might
do
well
with
such
a
secretary
.
But
too
good-looking
by
far
,
with
those
fine
features
,
the
striking
coloring
,
the
magnificent
body
.
Father
Ralph
lapsed
back
into
silence
,
staring
at
the
tea
table
without
seeing
it
.
He
was
seeing
the
young
priest
he
had
just
disciplined
,
the
look
in
those
already
tormented
eyes
as
he
realized
they
were
not
even
going
to
let
him
say
goodbye
to
his
girl
.
Dear
God
,
what
if
it
had
been
him
,
and
the
girl
Meggie
?
One
could
get
away
with
it
for
a
while
if
one
was
discreet
;
forever
if
one
limited
women
to
the
yearly
vacation
away
from
the
parish
.
But
let
a
serious
devotion
to
one
woman
enter
the
picture
and
they
would
inevitably
find
out
.
There
were
times
when
only
kneeling
on
the
marble
floor
of
the
palace
chapel
until
he
was
stiff
with
physical
pain
prevented
him
from
catching
the
next
train
back
to
Gilly
and
Drogheda
.
He
had
told
himself
that
he
was
simply
the
victim
of
loneliness
,
that
he
missed
the
human
affection
he
had
known
on
Drogheda
.
He
told
himself
nothing
had
changed
when
he
yielded
to
a
passing
weakness
and
kissed
Meggie
back
;
that
his
love
for
her
was
still
located
in
realms
of
fancy
and
delight
,
that
it
had
not
passed
into
a
different
world
which
had
a
distracting
,
disturbing
wholeness
to
it
the
earlier
dreams
had
not
.
For
he
could
n't
admit
anything
had
changed
,
and
he
kept
Meggie
in
his
mind
as
a
little
girl
,
shutting
out
any
visions
which
might
contradict
this
.
He
had
been
wrong
.
The
pain
did
n't
fade
.
It
seemed
to
grow
worse
,
and
in
a
colder
,
uglier
way
.
Before
,
his
loneliness
had
been
an
impersonal
thing
,
he
had
never
been
able
to
say
to
himself
that
the
presence
in
his
life
of
any
one
being
could
remedy
it
.
But
now
loneliness
had
a
name
:
Meggie
.
Meggie
,
Meggie
,
Meggie
...
He
came
out
of
his
reverie
to
find
Archbishop
di
Contini-Verchese
staring
at
him
unwinkingly
,
and
those
large
dark
eyes
were
far
more
dangerously
omniscient
than
the
round
vivid
orbs
of
his
present
master
