“On my soul—no!”
“I am not certain that you have a soul.”
“Indeed? Is it so?” half sadly.
“They say what the torrents rushing down by Chamouni say!”
“Ah! And at other times?”
“They talk of the beginning of the earth, and conjecture concerning the end of things.”
“And do they take any notice of you? Nature always seems to me careless and indifferent.”
“They invite me to come up and lie down on their great sides where the sun has lain all day before me. Yes, they always smile upon me.”
“Do not go,—at least until the mamma and I go with you.”
“I should not be afraid alone.”