An Open Verdict by Mary Elizabeth Braddon

AFTER that first interview Cyril saw Emmanuel Joyce often. His duty took him nearly every day to that fœtid alley where the cobbler contrived to grow his flowers, and to maintain a semblance of prettiness in his narrow dwelling. Whenever the curate had half an hour to spare in his daily round he spent it with Emmanuel, and their talk was generally of spiritual things; for, like most unbelievers, Joyce loved to discuss the religion he pretended to abjure.

One day when Emmanuel had quoted one of the most appalling passages in ‘Queen Mab,' Cyril startled him by asking, --