never had been; and could is no argument. Kinsmen of the Fiend? What of
it? Kinsmen of the Fiend have rights, and these had; and children have
rights, and these had; and if I had been there I would have spoken--I
would have begged for the children and the fiends, and stayed your hand
and saved them all. But now--oh, now, all is lost; everything is lost,
and there is no help more!"

Then she finished with a blast at that idea that fairy kinsmen of the
Fiend ought to be shunned and denied human sympathy and friendship
because salvation was barred against them. She said that for that very
reason people ought to pity them, and do every humane and loving thing
they could to make them forget the hard fate that had been put upon them
by accident of birth and no fault of their own. "Poor little creatures!"
she said. "What can a person's heart be made of that can pity a
Christian's child and yet can't pity a devil's child, that a thousand
times more needs it!"

She had torn loose from Pere Fronte, and was crying, with her knuckles in
her eyes, and stamping her small feet in a fury; and now she burst out of
the place and was gone before we could gather our senses together out of
this storm of words and this whirlwind of passion.

The Pere had got upon his feet, toward the last, and now he stood there
passing his hand back and forth across his forehead like a person who is
dazed and troubled; then he turned and wandered toward the door of his
little workroom, and as he passed through it I heard him murmur
sorrowfully:

"Ah, me, poor children, poor fiends, they have rights, and she said
true--I never thought of that. God forgive me, I am to blame."