All priests know good wine.

Ah yes! Goddam!" He fell into deep reflection.
Lieutenant Butler stirred, and became sympathetic.
"'San infern'l shame," said he indignantly.

"I'll no forgerrit when I...
meet the French." Then he too fell into reflection.
He was a good Catholic, and, moreover, a Catholic who did not take things for granted.

The sloth and self-indulgence of the clergy in Portugal, being his first glimpse of conventuals in Latin countries, had deeply shocked him.

The vows of a monastic poverty that was kept carefully beyond the walls of the monastery offended his sense of propriety.