. . And do you never long for the
flesh-pots of Egypt? Never long for"--here her voice was not quite so
clear--"for the past?"
I was sure that, whatever she was doing, he had been trying to keep the
talk, as it were, on the surface. I was equally sure that, to her last
question, he would make no reply. Though I was now speaking to Justine
Caron, I heard him say quite calmly and firmly: "Yes, I preach, baptise,
marry, and bury, and do all I can for those who need help."
"The people about here say that you are good and charitable. You have won
the hearts of the mountaineers. But you always had a gift that way."--I
did not like her tone.--"One would almost think you had founded a new
dispensation. And if I had drowned yesterday, you would, I suppose, have
buried me, and have preached a little sermon about me.--You could have
done that better than any one else! . . . What would you have said in
such a case?"
There was an earnest, almost a bitter, protest in the reply.
"Pardon me, if I cannot answer your question. Your life was saved, and
that is all we have to consider, except to be grateful to Providence.
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