"A call to the beautiful, the wholesome, the healthful for body and mind and soul, where I might meet my fellows and become their friend? Where I could and would at times bring gentleness and love into their lives? Where I should meet children and make them see? Women and teach them the value of life?... A road like that, my friend?"
"Yes, I think it is that kind of a road."
"Are you sure of it?"
"Yes, I am sure of it!"
"Well, Jean François," she said as she arose and gave him her hand for good night, "I would listen to Pan. I would take my pack and the long, splendid open road. I'd become the happy pedler. A pedler, I should say, if I were Monsieur l'Abbé Jacques Picot, of little joys for troubled hearts, heartsease for the sad, elfish tales for romping children, merry songs for lovers, and an exceeding great love for all of them.... That is as I should do, my friend.... Good night," and she was gone.
Jean François sat with his face hidden in his hands. He prayed a little, wept a little, and laughed between his praying and his weeping.
It was the last night.