Reverend Corman waited a few minutes, to give the dean a chance to go through the morning's mail and make his telephone calls and walked up the short staircase from the chapel's small office. The minister stopped at the door, and knocked. Behind the frosted glass window which had 'Dean' stenciled across the front he could see Lowell reflected hunched over his desk. At the sound of the minister's knock, a voice called out, "Come in."

The handsome minister turned the knob and pushed the door open. Once more Lowell was hunched over his desk, scribbling something on a legal-sized yellow pad. "Be with you in a minute, Reverend Corman," he mumbled, continuing to write. It was one of his little affectations, Bradley noticed. The dean always liked to appear that you were stealing a few precious seconds of his time. It let all the staff know how busily the president of the college was attending to business although, Bradley thought wryly, there certainly wasn't much he could be doing. The school was an institution; it practically ran itself.

Finally, Lowell shoved the pad away from him, then swiveled around in his desk chair, and smiled patronizingly, "Morning, Reverend."

"Good morning, Dean Lowell."

"Fabulous day, isn't it, Reverend?"

The agitated minister clearly did not feel the same way. His day had started out with the alarming anonymous phone call which was his reason for the visit to the dean's office in the first place. It was not a duty he relished, bringing up this most distasteful topic with the outrageous accusations. "Fine day, Dean Lowell," he said though.

"What's on your mind… running short of hymn books down in the chapel?"

Reverend Corman shuffled a little uneasily. He cleared his throat, and began, "Something has come to my attention that I feel I should discuss with you…"