"And then I thought how lovely it would be if I could only sing like Mimi la Salope, and I've thought so ever since—just to pray!"
"What! Trilby? if you could only sing like—Oh, but never mind, I forgot! Tell me, Trilby—do you ever pray to Him, as other people pray?"
"Pray to Him? Well, no—not often—not in words and on my knees and with my hands together, you know! Thinking's praying, very often—don't you think so? And so's being sorry and ashamed when one's done a mean thing, and glad when one's resisted a temptation, and grateful when it's a fine day and one's enjoying one's self without hurting any one else! What is it but praying when you try and bear up after losing all you cared to live for? And very good praying too! There can be prayers without words just as well as songs, I suppose; and Svengali used to say that songs without words are the best!
"And then it seems mean to be always asking for things. Besides, you don't get them any the faster that way, and that shows!
"La mère Martin used to be always praying. And Père Martin used always to laugh at her; yet he always seemed to get the things he wanted oftenest!
"I prayed once, very hard indeed! I prayed for Jeannot not to die!"
"Well—but how do you repent, Trilby, if you do not humble yourself, and pray for forgiveness on your knees?"
"Oh, well—I don't exactly know! Look here, Mrs. Bagot, I'll tell you the lowest and meanest thing I ever did...."
(Mrs. Bagot felt a little nervous.)