--And he was another pig then, said Cranly.
--The church calls him a saint, Stephen objected.
--I don't care a flaming damn what anyone calls him, Cranly said rudely
and flatly. I call him a pig.
Stephen, preparing the words neatly in his mind, continued:
--Jesus, too, seems to have treated his mother with scant courtesy in
public but Suarez, a jesuit theologian and Spanish gentleman, has
apologized for him.
--Did the idea ever occur to you, Cranly asked, that Jesus was not
what he pretended to be?
--The first person to whom that idea occurred, Stephen answered, was
Jesus himself.
--I mean, Cranly said, hardening in his speech, did the idea ever
occur to you that he was himself a conscious hypocrite, what he called
the jews of his time, a whited sepulchre? Or, to put it more plainly,
that he was a blackguard?
--That idea never occurred to me, Stephen answered. But I am curious
to know are you trying to make a convert of me or a pervert of
yourself?
He turned towards his friend's face and saw there a raw smile which
some force of will strove to make finely significant.
Cranly asked suddenly in a plain sensible tone:
--Tell me the truth. Were you at all shocked by what I said?
--Somewhat, Stephen said.
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