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Grace

           “IsitJohnofTuam?”

           “Areyousureofthatnow?”askedMr.Fogartydubiously.“IthoughtitwassomeItalianorAmerican.”

           “JohnofTuam,”repeatedMr.Cunningham,“wastheman.”

           Hedrankandtheothergentlemenfollowedhislead.Thenheresumed:

           “Theretheywereatit,allthecardinalsandbishopsandarchbishopsfromalltheendsoftheearthandthesetwofightingdoganddeviluntilatlastthePopehimselfstoodupanddeclaredinfallibilityadogmaoftheChurchexcathedra.OntheverymomentJohnMacHale,whohadbeenarguingandarguingagainstit,stoodupandshoutedoutwiththevoiceofalion:‘Credo!’”

           “Ibelieve!”saidMr.Fogarty.

           “Credo!”saidMr.Cunningham“Thatshowedthefaithhehad.HesubmittedthemomentthePopespoke.”

           “AndwhataboutDowling?”askedMr.M’Coy.

           “TheGermancardinalwouldn’tsubmit.Heleftthechurch.”

           Mr.Cunningham’swordshadbuiltupthevastimageofthechurchinthemindsofhishearers.Hisdeep,raucousvoicehadthrilledthemasitutteredthewordofbeliefandsubmission.WhenMrs.Kernancameintotheroom,dryingherhandsshecameintoasolemncompany.Shedidnotdisturbthesilence,butleanedovertherailatthefootofthebed.

           “IoncesawJohnMacHale,”saidMr.Kernan,“andI’llneverforgetitaslongasIlive.

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