She glanced round the room with a hunted look in her eyes.
“Oh,” she said, “I cannot keep it up any longer. You must have guessed—you who are so quick—that my brother is a great criminal. He has ruined thousands of people. He was escaping with the money he had stolen when the steamer was wrecked.”
The cure did not say whether this news surprised him or not, but walked to the window and looked thoughtfully out to sea. The windows were dull and spray-ridden.
“Ah!” the girl cried, “you must not judge hastily. You cannot know his temptation.”
“I will not judge at all, mademoiselle. No man may judge of another's temptation. But—he can restore the money.”
“No. It was all lost in the steamer.”
She had approached the other window, and stood beside the little priest looking out over the grey sea.
“It was surely my duty to come here and help him, whatever he had done.”
“Assuredly, mademoiselle.”
“But he says you can give him up if you like.”