“There must be a fine view from the hill-top, and no doubt you often go there to read your breviary.”
“During the building of the playhouse I often used to be up here, and during the rehearsals I was here every day.”
I noticed that the tone of his voice never altered.
A grey, shallow sea had slowly eaten away the rotten land, and the embay was formed by two low headlands hardly showing above the water at high tide.
“I thought once,” said the priest, “that if the play were a great success a line of flat-bottomed steamers might be built.”
“Pleasant dreams,” I said to myself, “and he sitting here in the quiet evenings, reading his breviary, dreaming of a line of steamships crowded with visitors. He has been reading about the Oberammergau performances.” And I spoke about these performance
