“I am very glad,” Hilda interrupted. “When one prays for so long a time together it must be better to have fresh air. It will certainly be better for Brother Colquhoun. He seems to have such a weak chest.”
“It will be better for us all.” Arnold seemed to reflect, across his teacup, how much better it would be. Then he added, “I saw Lindsay last night.”
“Again? And—”
“I think it is perfectly hopeless. I think he is making way.”
“Sickening! I hoped you would not speak to him again. After all—another man—it's naturally of no use!”
“I spoke as a priest!”
“Did he swear at you?”
“Oh dear no! He was rather sympathetic. And I went very far. But I could get him to see nothing—to feel nothing.”
“How far did you go?”
“I told him that she was consecrated, that he proposed to commit sacrilege. He seemed to think he could make it up to her.”