I shall be thinking over what we have said.—I ... I ... Excuse me, if I ask you something?
Yes, my child, what is it?
Promise me you weren't joking.
I wasn't joking at all.
Did I really hear you say that the prayers of good men are of no...? However. Goodnight. You will forgive my slipping away now?
So they took their leaves.
I went to bed worried. I was worrying about Astrée-Luce. Was she going to lose her faith? What do bystanders do in such a case? The loss of one's faith is always comic to outsiders, especially when the loser is in fine health, wealth, and a fairly sound mind. The loss of any one or all of these has a sort of grandeur; Astrée-Luce should have the loss of her faith depend on one of the others. It's not a thing one loses in fine weather.
I was wakened from a troubled sleep by a discreet but continuous knocking upon my door. It was Alviero, the majordomo.
Madame says will you please dress and come to her in the library, please.
What's the matter, Alviero?