I
Halvorsen waited in the Chancery office while Monsignor Reedy disposed of three persons who had preceded him. He was a little dizzy with hunger and noticed only vaguely that the prelate's secretary was beckoning to him. He started to his feet when the secretary pointedly opened the door to Monsignor Reedy's inner office and stood waiting beside it.
The artist crossed the floor, forgetting that he had leaned his portfolio against his chair, remembered at the door and went back for it, flushing. The secretary looked patient.
"Thanks," Halvorsen murmured to him as the door closed.
There was something wrong with the prelate's manner.
"I've brought the designs for the Stations, Padre," he said, opening the portfolio on the desk.
"Bad news, Roald," said the monsignor. "I know how you've
