"There is thunder in the air," he said, "as you know very well, and
Master More is no mean weather-prophet. He mis-liked the matter of the
Lady Katharine, and Queen Anne is no friend of his. I think he is wise
to be quiet."

Ralph knew perfectly well that this tolerant language did not represent
Cromwell's true attitude towards the man of whom they were speaking, but
he assented to all that was said, and added a word or two about Sir
Thomas More's learning, and of the pleasant manner in which he himself
had been received when he had once had had occasion to see him before.

"He was throwing Horace at me," said the other, with a touch of
bitterness, "the last time that I was there. I do not know which he
loves best, that or his prayers."

Again Ralph recognised an animus. Cromwell had suffered somewhat from
lack of a classical education.

"But it is a good thing to love the classics and devotion," he went on
presently with a sententious air, "they are solaces in time of trouble.
I have found that myself."

He glanced up at the other and down again.

"I was caught saying our Lady matins one day," he said, "when the
Cardinal was in trouble. I remember I was very devout that morning."

He went on to talk of Wolsey and of his relations with him, and Ralph
watched that heavy smooth face become reminiscent and almost