Of course I don't mean that I should have troubled God about these trifles; I should have found one of the young angels who were everywhere and asked him; or I should have sent for one of my friends who died in the War....
Should I? I wonder if I should have dared....
Meanwhile St. Peter waits. "What do you want?" he asked.
I handed him my card with the name of the paper on it.
"God perhaps would grant me an interview?" I said. "I was sent here for the purpose."
"My editor," I said, "seemed confident that I should be admitted."
"Who is your editor?" said St. Peter. "Do we know him here?"
"Well, I'll see," he said, "but it's all very unusual and irregular. You'd better tell your leonid to wait."
He carefully locked the door again, with me just inside it, and shuffled away. He was clearly irritated.
"It's very surprising," he said, "but God will see you. He seemed quite pleased about it. I don't know what Heaven's coming to. Personally, I'm against every kind of publicity. The emphasis laid by a fellow-disciple on one or two unfortunate moments in my own life has been a source of grief to me ever since. This way, please, and remember that the interview is permitted only on condition that no leading questions are asked. Nothing as to the reason for the creation or anything like that, for example. A quiet talk merely; no excitement."
How I came into the Presence I cannot remember; but suddenly I was with God, just ourselves. Nor did I feel frightened.
But St. Peter's warning about leading questions made it difficult for me. Of course those were what I wanted to ask, and I remember thinking how annoyed my editor would be that I had paid any attention to a doorkeeper. The whole business of interviewers is to be superior to doorkeepers. But then I am not a journalist; I have quite a lot of sensitiveness; and I could not bring myself to disregard the old saint, who, after all, was only acting on instructions. It would be terrible to be allowed into Heaven and then behave in a vulgar way.
After racking my brains for a start I asked God if there was anything that was interesting Him in particular just at the moment.
"As it happens," He said, "there is. Only this morning I was looking down over London, and almost for the first time I noticed something that gave me great pleasure. Pathetic too, in a way; but then there is so much pathos----