She smiled faintly from the transparent shadow of her white cornette.
"Flowers are all so lovely," she said, "it is never easy for me to choose. They are for my school, you know?"—with a slight rising inflection. But evidently this young man did not know, so she added, "I am Sister Eila," and smiled again, when it was apparent that he had never heard of Sister Eila.
"I am English," he said, "—traveling through France on business. I arrived last night to visit my friend, Mr. Warner. My name is Halkett."
She nodded and snipped a few more pansies.
"May I help you, Sister? If you don't mind telling me what flowers you desire——"
"Merci, Monsieur. Pansies, if you please. The children see odd little faces in their petals, and it amuses them."
Down on his knees beside the border, the grey cat seated between them, Halkett picked pansies and laid them in rows in her ozier basket.
"Of course," he said, "your school is a charity school."
"For the poor, of course. My children are those of the quarrymen."
"You do not teach them alone?"