I gathered up my portfolio and left the room, went down the stairs and through the passage and courtyard to the sun-filled street.
I went on slowly, and after a time found myself close to the church again. I went in, for the interior interested me, and found service was being held. A Russian priest, wholly in white clothing, stood before the altar, the cross light from the aisle windows falling on the long twist of fair hair that lay upon his shoulders. The whole air was full of incense that rose in white clouds to the domed roof. I sat down near the door and listened while the priest intoned a Latin hymn. The figure of the young priest at the altar attracted me. I thought I should like a sketch of it; but I hesitated to take one of him in the church, even surreptitiously, so I fixed the picture of him as he stood there on my eyes as far as I could, and then, in a convenient pause of the service, quietly slipped outside.
Near the church was a great outcrop of rock surmounted by a weather-beaten tree. In the shade thrown by these I got out a sheet of loose paper and made a sketch of the fair, long-haired priest, with the quaint frame building of the church, its green copper dome and bell tower and double gold crosses behind him.
After I had been there some time I was suddenly surprised by Morley.
"Hullo!" he exclaimed. "You here? Why, I thought you would be in the arms of the fair Suzee by this time."
"So I might have been," I answered, looking up from the sketch, "but I got put off somehow, so I left her and went to church instead!"
"You _are_ the funniest fellow," he exclaimed, taking his seat beside me on the ground and clasping his hands round his knees. "So Suzee has offended you, has she? Do you know, I think that's where we ordinary people get ahead of fellows like you. You are too sensitive. We're not so particular. When I'm stuck on Mary Ann it doesn't matter to me what she says or does. It doesn't interfere with my happiness."
"Funny those chaps look with their long hair, don't they?" he remarked after a moment, as I painted the light on the priest's long curl.
"Very picturesque, don't you think?" I said.
"No, I don't," returned the Briton stoutly. "I think it's beastly."