"But if there are the sins of others, and you know, and they trouble your
soul, M'sieu'?"

"You have nothing to do with the sins of others; it is enough to repent
of your own sins. The priest has nothing to do with any sins but those
confessed by the sinner to himself. Your own sins are your sole concern
to-night, Margot."

The woman's face seemed to clear a little, and her eyes wandered to the
man at the window with less anxiety. Charley was wondering whether,
after all, she would have the courage to keep her word, whether spiritual
terror would surmount the moral attitude of honour. He was also
wondering how much right he had to put the strain upon the woman in her
desperate hour. "How long did the doctor say I could live?" the woman
asked presently.

"Till morning, perhaps, Margot."

"I should like to live till sunrise," she answered, "till after
breakfast. Rosalie makes good tea," she added musingly.

The Cure almost smiled. "There is the Living Bread, my daughter."

She nodded. "But I should like to see the sunrise and have Rosalie bring
me tea," she persisted.

"Very well, Margot. We will ask God for that."

Her mind flew back again to the old question.