Curious sentence that! It caught in his brain. It seemed rather true.
From the Bible probably of course, though he was not very familiar with
that volume, never having been obliged to go to Sunday School in his
childhood days? But was it true? Were all a man's ways clean in his own
eyes? Take, for instance, his own ways? He always did about as he
pleased, and he had never asked himself whether his ways were clean or
not. He hadn't particularly cared. He supposed some people would think
they were not--but in his own eyes, well--was he clean? Take for
instance this expedition of his? Running a race to get another man's
wife,--an alleged friend's wife, too? It did seem rather despicable
when one thought of it after the jag was off. But then one was not
quite responsible for what one did with a jag on, and what the deuce
did the Lord have to do with it anyway? How could the Lord weigh the
spirit? That meant of course that he saw through all subterfuges. Well,
what of it?
Another sentence caught his ear: "When a man's ways please the Lord, he maketh even his
enemies to be at peace with him."
How odd, the Lord,--if there was a Lord, he had never thought much
about it--but how odd, if there was a Lord for Him to care about a
man's ways. If he were Lord he wouldn't care, he'd only want them to
keep out of his way. He would probably crush them like ants, if he were
Lord. But the Lord--taking any notice of men's ways, and being pleased
by them and looking out to protect him from enemies! It certainly was
quaint--a quaint idea! He glanced again at the reverent face of the
girl, the down drooped eyes, the lovely sensitive mouth. Quaint, that
was the word for her, quaint and unusual. He certainly was going to
enjoy meeting her.
"Ting-aling-ling-ling!" burst out the telephone bell on the desk. He
frowned and dropped the curtain. Was that Opal? He hobbled to the desk
painfully, half annoyed that she had called him from the contemplation
of this novel scene, not so sure that he would bother to call up that
garage yet. Let it go till he had sampled the girl.
He took down the receiver and Opal's voice greeted him, mockingly,
tauntingly from his own world. The little ivy leaved church with its
Saint Cecilia at the organ, and its strange weird message about a God
that cared for man's ways, dropped away like a dream that was past.