{"product_id":"2940013773646","title":"The Inquisitor","description":"The thin papery sky of the early autumn afternoon was torn, and the\u003cbr\u003eeye of the sun, pale but piercing, looked through and down.  The\u003cbr\u003eeye's gaze travelled on a shaft of light to the very centre of the\u003cbr\u003etown.  A little scornful, very arrogant, it surveyed the scene.\u003cbr\u003eThe Cathedral had chimed at three, and at once the bells began with\u003cbr\u003etheir accustomed melody to ring for Evensong.  The town, bathed in\u003cbr\u003ea smoky haze, clustered about and around the Cathedral, Cathedral\u003cbr\u003eGreen and Arden Gate, dropping through the High Street, then lower\u003cbr\u003eto the Market-place, then sharply over the Rock to Seatown that\u003cbr\u003ebordered the river.  Slowly up, beyond the river, sloped the quiet\u003cbr\u003eautumn fields to the hills that spread, like dun cloths, to the\u003cbr\u003esea.  For the moment, while the sun's eye gazed its last on that\u003cbr\u003eafternoon, the huddled town, the long fields, the wide band of sea\u003cbr\u003ecaught a pale glow of light, looking up to the sun with the\u003cbr\u003etimidity of a girl reassured by her lover's unexpected attentions.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMen lolling in Riverside Street said:  'There's the sun!'\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAt the St. Leath Hotel on Pol Hill beyond the town, windows stole a\u003cbr\u003eglimmering shade.  In Canon's Yard the old houses with their\u003cbr\u003etwisted shapes and crooked chimneys grinned, for an instant, like\u003cbr\u003etoothless old men.  It was market day and in the Marketplace the\u003cbr\u003ehuddled sheep, the wide-eyed cows, the barking dogs, the farmers,\u003cbr\u003ethe old women were mistily gold-lit as with a divine dust.  The\u003cbr\u003efrock-coated statue at the top of Orange Street was illuminated at\u003cbr\u003ethe nose; in the yard of the old 'Bull' a weary maid rubbed her\u003cbr\u003eeyes; Hattaway, the architect, standing in the door of Bennett's\u003cbr\u003ebookshop, looked up to the sky and smiled; two of the old ladies of\u003cbr\u003e10 Norman Row, starting out for their walk, said together:  'Why,\u003cbr\u003ethere's the sun!'; Mr. Stephen Furze, alone in his cobwebby room,\u003cbr\u003esaw the sun strike ladders of light through the air and shook his\u003cbr\u003ehead at them; young 'Penny' Marlowe, arranging chrysanthemums in\u003cbr\u003ethe drawing-room at St. James's Rectory, smiled mysteriously as\u003cbr\u003ethough surprised in a secret.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe King Harry Tower caught the light, then seemed, with a proud\u003cbr\u003egesture of disdain, to toss it away.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe eye of the sun, having seen everything, withdrew.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMists were rising from the river.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe Reverend Peter Gaselee, young and ardent, was crossing the\u003cbr\u003eCathedral Green to Evensong.  Half-way over he was stopped by a\u003cbr\u003ebent figure, shoulders wrapped in a grey shawl, hat shabby and\u003cbr\u003eshapeless, that said in a sharp and piercing voice:  'Ah, Mr.\u003cbr\u003eGaselee--Sun came out for a moment but it's gone in again.'  Peter\u003cbr\u003eGaselee was annoyed by this interruption, for he was in a hurry and\u003cbr\u003eold Mr. Mordaunt was a fool.  However, it was his policy to be\u003cbr\u003eagreeable to everyone--it was also the obligation of his cloth.  So\u003cbr\u003ehe said brightly:\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e'Ah, Mr. Mordaunt--been sketching?'\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e'Yes, I have.  I've stopped now because the light's too bad.  If\u003cbr\u003ethe sun had stayed I'd have had half an hour more.'  He drew his\u003cbr\u003egrey shawl closer about his shoulders.  'Like to see what I've been\u003cbr\u003edoing?'\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e'Delighted,' Gaselee said, but thought--'Silly old ass--always must\u003cbr\u003ebe showing his mad sketches to everyone.'  His fine thin nose\u003cbr\u003etwitched as it always did when he was irritated, but his smile was\u003cbr\u003egenial as the old man, with a trembling hand, drew out a sketch-\u003cbr\u003ebook.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e'There--the light's bad.  But you can see it all right, I daresay.'\u003cbr\u003eHe opened the book and showed, his fingers tapping against the\u003cbr\u003epaper, a double-page drawing.  Gaselee flattered himself that he\u003cbr\u003ehad a fine knowledge of the Arts.  He and old Ronder, and possibly\u003cbr\u003eHattaway, were the only men, he told himself, who cared for such\u003cbr\u003ethings in Polchester.","brand":"WDS Publishing","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":47083243602160,"sku":"2940013773646","price":0.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0737\/7593\/9824\/files\/2940013773646_p0.jpg?v=1763590069","url":"https:\/\/shop-qa.barnesandnoble.com\/products\/2940013773646","provider":"Barnes \u0026 Noble (DEV)","version":"1.0","type":"link"}