“What say?—why this: that if those blooming looks
Hid wormy fruit like that, I ne’er would trust
Sound health again!
“Pauline, I half believe
The conscience of a nun is consciousness
Of mere unrest—no more. In natures framed
Of spirit, mind, and flesh, the cause may be
Some sin that clogs the current of the soul;
But, just as likely, thought that puzzles one;
Yes, yes, or indigestion, nerves diseased—