
(a short story)
PART TWO
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Fr. James O’Shaughnessy was young, perhaps newly ordained, Tollers thought, and probably not well educated enough to hold his interest for long. Seminary educations were not what they used to be. In his day priests were renaissance men with sound groundings in several languages, literature and history, in addition to philosophy and theology. But you never know, Tollers thought to himself, he might be good for an hour or two of harmless conversation. They sat across from each other at the small oak table in the middle of Tollers’ tiny dining room, just in front of a large bay window that looked out over the lake. Tollers had set out some cheese, crackers and fruit for a light lunch.