"Ah, mais oui! Everything—the past, the future, what one ought to do—they can tell you everything, ma, chère!"
"They are better than cards then? Or fortune tellers?"
"Oh, much better, cards sometimes lie, but spirits, never, ma petite, never! How could a spirit lie! Mais ce n'est pas possible, mon amour!"
Nacha liked to have her fortune read from cards at frequent intervals. Now she thought she would prefer to talk with Riga, the "professor of happiness" acting as medium. Riga would not lie to her. Nevertheless, on the two or three other occasions when she went to a spiritualist séance she had not the courage to ask that Riga's spirit be summoned. It was not so much shyness nor shame which held her back, as fear—Riga would be sure to reproach her for her manner of living....
But one day a strange thing happened! Nacha unwittingly came upon Mlle. Dupont in circumstances so compromising to that lady that Nacha, confused, and distressed, thought only of relieving her friend's embarrassment. Nothing, thought Nacha, but her entire confidence could show Mlle. Dupont that she still held her in high regard. So, swayed by a generous impulse, she told her hostess the story of her own life. And when she had done so Mlle. Dupont turned upon her with a request for the month's rent!
Another crumbled illusion! Nacha wept bitterly over its ruins. It was faith in this woman's strength which had helped her all this while to resist despair; now she had lost the only refuge she knew in the whole world; and tomorrow she would lose what would cost her more than either of these: she would lose hope in herself. She would have to go back to the world which had doomed her to a disreputable life, which would allow her to live no other....
She decided, however, before taking any other measure to meet Mlle. Dupont's demands for money, to call on Torres for help. But, the next day, early in the morning, the servant told her that one of the priests who frequently called on Mlle. Dupont wanted to speak to her. Nacha went to the parlor. Father Duchaine, round of figure and of face, sat there waiting for her. His gestures too were round, as were his short fat fingers; and he spoke with a round little mouth. Nacha did not conceal her astonishment at this unexpected call.
"Mademoiselle, the fact is...."
He stood, apparently searching for words with which to state the fact, gazing at the floor, placing his right hand on his mouth, and taking it away when his meaning required the elucidation of a circle described by a fat arm in the air.
"You know Mademoiselle! Such a saint! Her parents, although they were not Catholics, were good people, God-fearing, virtue-loving. Providence was watching over our dear Mademoiselle! When they died, her aunt, a good religious woman, took her to live with her; and in this aunt's house Mademoiselle became a convert."