“The priest has called,” he said. “I have asked him to dejeuner.”
She looked at him with frank astonishment in her dark eyes.
“You—Boris!”
“Yes, I. Why not?”
“I don’t know. But generally you hate people.”
“He seems a good sort of man.”
She still looked at him with some surprise, even with curiosity.
“Have you taken a fancy to a priest?” she asked, smiling.
“Why not? This man is very different from Father Roubier, more human.”
“Father Beret is very human, I think,” she answered.