"Perhaps so: everything changes."
Sainte-Hélène leaned forward, resting his arms on the arms of the chair. He wrinkled his eyelids around central points of fire.
"What is a loup-garou?"
"Does monsieur not know? Monsieur Sainte-Hélène surely knows that a loup-garou is a man-wolf."
"A man-wolf," mused the soldier. "But when a person is so afflicted, is he a man or is he a wolf?"
"It is not an affliction, monsieur; it is sorcery."
"I think you are right. Then the wretched man-wolf is past being prayed for?"
"If one should repent"—
"I don't repent anything," returned Sainte-Hélène; and Gaspard's jaw relaxed, and he had the feeling of pin-feathers in his hair. "Is he a man or is he a wolf?" repeated the questioner.
"The loup-garou is a man, but he takes the form of a wolf."