"We will share our loneliness together."
Evelyn seemed to acquiesce.
"My dear child, you are very good; you have a kind heart. One sees it in your eyes."
She left the Prioress's room frightened, saying. "Till the Prioress's death."
XXXI
Father Daly paced the garden alley, reading his Breviary, and, catching sight of him, Sister Winifred, a tall, thin woman, with a narrow forehead and prominent teeth, said to herself, "Now's my chance."
"I hope you won't mind my interrupting you, Father, but I have come to speak to you on a matter of some importance. It will take some minutes for me to explain it all to you, and in confession, you see, our time is limited. You know how strict the Prioress is that we shouldn't exceed our regulation three minutes."
"I know that quite well," the little man answered abruptly; "a most improper rule. But we'll not discuss the Prioress, Sister Winifred. What have you come to tell me?"
"Well, in a way, it is about the Prioress. You know all about our financial difficulties, and you know they are not settled yet."
"I thought that Sister Teresa's singing—"