"Oh--ho!" said Theron. The exclamation had uttered itself. The sound of
it seemed to clarify his muddled thoughts; and as they ranged themselves
in order, he began to understand. "Oh--ho!" he said again, and nodded
his head in token of comprehension.

The lawyer, chewing his cigar with increased activity, glared at him.
"What do you mean?" he demanded peremptorily.

"Mean?" said the minister. "Oh, nothing that I feel called upon to
explain to you."

It was passing strange, but his self-possession had all at once returned
to him. As it became more apparent that the lawyer was losing his
temper, Theron found the courage to turn up the corners of his lips in
show of a bitter little smile of confidence. He looked into the other's
dusky face, and flaunted this smile at it in contemptuous defiance. "It
is not a subject that I can discuss with propriety--at this stage," he
added.

"Damn you! Are you talking about those flowers?"

"Oh, I am not talking about anything in particular," returned Theron,
"not even the curious choice of language which my latest probationer
seems to prefer."

"Go and strike my name off the list!" said Gorringe, with rising
passion. "I was a fool to ever have it there. To think of being a
probationer of yours--my God!"