“A moral regeneration?”
“Yes,” replied the SAVANT, in a tone of conviction. “Here metals do not get rust on them by exposure to the air, nor men. Here the pure, dry atmosphere whitens everything rapidly, both linen and souls. The virtue of the climate must have been well known in England when they determined to send their criminals here to be reformed.”
“What! do you mean to say the climate has really any such influence?” said Lady Helena.
“Yes, Madam, both on animals and men.”
“You are not joking, Monsieur Paganel?”
“I am not, Madam. The horses and the cattle here are of incomparable docility. You see it?”
“It is impossible!”
“But it is a fact. And the convicts transported into this reviving, salubrious air, become regenerated in a few years. Philanthropists know this. In Australia all natures grow better.”
“But what is to become of you then, Monsieur Paganel, in this privileged country—you who are so good already?” said Lady Helena. “What will you turn out?”
“Excellent, Madam, just excellent, and that’s all.”