"She never had but one, my boy—to hear you speak out once like this: as if you meant it." "And besides," he stammered, "it should cancel any—any obligations you might still hold against me, myself."
"Parbleu! I should hope so!"
He labored on, with a kind of desperate snuffle.
"At the end, Madame, we can always turn for aid to the Church—the patient friend of us all.... This afternoon—uneasy about Zelie, I confess, and thinking a decisive step would be best for every one—this very afternoon I took myself to St. Gregory's and there I saw—"
"Bibi-Ri: in a moment I shall kiss you!"
"For God's sake let me speak, Madame!... I saw the Directress of the Order of St. Joseph of Cluny. She heard me readily. You know—these good nuns—how they rescue any they can of the children of Nouméa.... Well: I arranged it.... To-night a travelling sister will visit you here. By great luck she is returning home very soon. If the dispositions are favorable she has promised to take Zelie at once, to guard her and to see her safe—passage free—to France, where refuge and the consolations of religion, Madame, await her!"
In the silence that dropped you should have seen Mother Carron.
"Refuge!" she began, empurpled. "What is the fellow talking about? Conso—.... Look here. Do you mean a convent?"
"Of course, Madame."
"A convent! In truth? Is this all you have to offer?"