“A silly little priestess who knew nothing of life at all until she came to you. ‘Mademoiselle,’ he had greeted her, entering the little private parlour where, Martha being at prayer in their room, she sat alone, reading over and over the letter Mother Abbess had given her and revolving plans in her head. She was in a very uncritical state that afternoon. A dozen shynesses and intellectual barriers were being outflanked or broken down in her mind. " "It may be; but if it shortens the distance and lightens the journey, I care not," retorted the widow, who seemed by this reproach to be roused into sudden eloquence. All my life I've had to fight human wolves to hold what I have. " "Stand off, Poll," rejoined the woollen-draper; "I don't want to hurt you.
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