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“And knocked on the door—”

“Would you do that?” He leaned slightly toward me “Go on”

“Would you let me in?” I asked

I ht have shoved him back in his chair

“Once, weren’t churches open all hours?” I pursued

“Long ago,” he said, much too quickly

“So, father, any night I came in dire need, you would not answer?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” The candlelight flared in his eyes, as if I had raised the wick to quicken the flare

“For the worst sinner, maybe, in the history of the world, father?”

“There’s no such creature” Too late, his tongue froze on this last dread noun His eyes swiveled and batted He revised his proclao-round

“No such person lives”

“But,” I pursued, “what if da—” I stopped—“late?”

“Iscariot? I’d wake for him, yes”

“And what if, father, this lost terrible hts of the year? Would you wake, or ignore the knock?”

That did it Father Kelly leaped up as if I had pulled the great cork The color sank from his cheeks and the skin at the roots of his hair