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The One Woman by Thomas Dixon
page 47 of 351 (13%)

"Yes; I saw him jump up and go out during the service. The women
were making shirts for his house at thirty-five cents a dozen,
finding their own thread and using their own machines. I said if I
found one of those shirts in my house I'd put it in the fire with
a pair of tongs, and I would. I'd be afraid to touch a seam lest
I felt the throb of a woman's bruised fingers in it."

The Deacon softly stroked his whiskers.

"It was an unfortunate remark. He contributed $500 a year to the
church. He has gone where the simple gospel of Christ is preached."

"Yes, so simple that he can sleep through it and know that it will
never touch his life," Gordon said with a sneer. "What's the use to
talk about mustard plaster? I say apply it to the place that hurts."

"You preach Evolution. I don't like the idea that man is descended
from a monkey."

"The weight of scholarship sustains the theory."

"Well, my idea is, if it's true, the less said about it the better.
And then you lack dignity out of the pulpit."

"Even so, Deacon, the most dignified man I ever saw was a dead
man--a dead New Yorker. What we need in the church is life."

"But you have departed from the faith of our fathers."

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