Pelleas looked into space with a most judicial air.
“You do not think of going to a secular house,” he said.
Igraine smiled to herself, and halted a moment in her answer.
“Why not?” she said.
“You—a nun?”
“Pelleas, I do not see why it is necessary for holiness to be bricked up like a frog in a wall in order to escape corruption. Why, you are eating your own words.”
“But you have vows,” he said.
“I have; and doubts also.”
“Doubts?” quoth the man, with a quick look, thrilling inwardly.
“Doubts, Pelleas, doubts.”