ironic jest that you great ones of the earth have tested me with a password, mistakenly supposing that I, also, was initiate. I am tempted to imagine some secret understanding, some hidden co-*operancy, by which you strengthen or, possibly, have attained your power. Confess, sir, is not the coincidence a droll one?"
He spoke lightly, but his heart was beating fast.
"It is remarkable enough," the prelate conceded, smiling. He asked the name of the personage whom coincidence linked with him, and being told it, chuckled. "I do not think it very odd he carried a mirror," the prelate considered. "He lives before a mirror, and behind a mega-*phone. I confess—mea culpa!—I often find my little looking-glass a convenience, in making sure all is right before I go into the pulpit. Not a few men in public life, I believe, carry such mirrors," he said, slowly. "But you, I take it, have no taste for public life?"
"I can assure you—" Kennaston began.
"Think well, my son! Suppose, for one mad instant, that your wild imaginings were not wholly insane? suppose that you had accidentally stumbled
