"No; you are perfectly wrong.

I'm not an interesting atheist.

I have the most beautiful child-like faith in--" "The God who was clever enough to make Mr.Nevill Tyson ?" said Miss Batchelor, very softly.

She had felt the antagonism, and resented it.
At this point Sir Peter came down with one of those tremendous platitudes that roll conversation out flat.

That was his notion of the duty of a host, to rush in and change the subject just as it was getting exciting.
The old gentleman had destroyed many a promising topic in this way, under the impression that he was saving a situation.
"You'll be bored to death--I give you six months," were Miss Batchelor's parting words, murmured aside over her shoulder.
On their way home Stanistreet congratulated Tyson.
"By Jove! you've fallen on your feet, Tyson.