“There was a priest there,” said Mabel. “I saw him before, at the station.”
Oliver gave a little hysterical snort of laughter.
“He was on his knees at once,” she said, “with his crucifix, even before the doctors came. My dear, do people really believe all that?”
“Why, they think they do,” said her husband.
“It was all so—so sudden; and there he was, just as if he had been expecting it all. Oliver, how can they?”
“Why, people will believe anything if they begin early enough.”
“And the man seemed to believe it, too—the dying man, I mean. I saw his eyes.”
She stopped.
“Well, my dear?”
“Oliver, what do you say to people when they are dying?”