"Oh it's quite impossible that I should repeat it to You, Holy Father. I should never be able to hold up my head again."
"Nonsense, Mr. Guthrie. We desire to know it."
"I'm sure I don't know what You'll think of me, Holy Father: but the fact is I went so far as to call him a—no, really I cannot—well—I'm sure I can't think what possessed me to use such an opprobrious term but I was excessively annoyed You see at the moment and the word slipped out before I was quite conscious of what I was saying——"
"What did you call him?"
"Well really if You must have it, Holy Father, I called him a Goose!"
"Oh.... And what did he do to you?"
"Burst into a roar of laughter and shut his door in my face."
"Did you feel pained?"
"Well perhaps just a little at the time: but not when I came to think it over. You see I really can't help feeling sorry for him."
"Why?"