Broken Arcs

Excerpt from Broken Arcs Andrew Foggetty was a worthy in the neighbourhood of Suffolk that owned him for inhabitant. Though he farmed a fairly extensive area of its slopes and valleys, yet it was not his occupation as farmer that earned him his peculiar repute, but rather his recreation as theologian. He belonged to a sect of strait opinions and swift and unerring judgments. Despite this deadly accuracy, however, and even in despite of certain opinions they nurtured as to their expressing in complete finality the mature convictions of the Almighty concerning the tendency and upshot of the whole universe, vital and ponderable, they might nevertheless not have loomed largely in public attention had it not been that they possessed for their chiefest luminary so determined a person as Andrew Foggetty. Not that he seemed determined at the first flush of acquaintance. Indeed, he might have been set down, and would probably have been set down, as extremely docile. But the explorer in the realms of psychological intricacy would discover this docility to be the resultant of a concentrated fierceness. If he appeared meek, it was not that he thought himself a fragile creature and a nonentity, but that he considered a docile nature the indication of heavenly forbearance toward earthy clay.