"In the house we came out of," Maurice answered. "She's on the fifth floor, at the front."
The priest regarded him with some surprise in his look, and something, too, of uncertainty.
"You haven't been there, have you?" he asked.
"Yes; we've just come from her place."
"Then perhaps she won't want me," the priest remarked. "It'll save me a good bit of a climb."
"But we went only as friends," Maurice explained. "She might wish the consolations of religion."
"Then you did not"—
"We are not of your church," Maurice interrupted, flushing.
The priest looked at them with a puzzled air.
"But surely," he said, "you are Catholic. Haven't you been to me at the confession?"