"The girl would have died, grandpère, if I had not rescued her. A flash of lightning would have taken her up to heaven as Elijah was taken up."
"I know not that story," said grandpère.
"Ah, well, grandpère, thou art a little ignorant in some things, but never mind, I want to ask thee a question."
"Ask away, my cabbage, my fledgling," said the old man.
"I want to suppose a bit," said Margot.
"Suppose away, then, ma petite."
"There was a little girl and she did wrong," said Margot. "It's all suppose, don't forget that, grandpère."
"I'm not forgetting," said grandpère.
"She did wrong, a deep, terrible wrong," continued Margot, "and there came to her a sorrow which was great, which was severe. Her conscience pricked her. For behold, understand, she was a Protestant and could not confide in one of thy Catholic Church. Then it occurred to her that she might make reparation for her wrong and do something that she most badly hated, and so set her pricked conscience at rest. Dost thou think, if she did that thing, that the great God would forgive her, grandpère?"