the Confiteor, you will do well to repeat in a low voice, with sorrow of
heart, those words of the penitent in the Gospel: 'O God, be merciful to
me a sinner!' He will then administer to you baptism under condition
(_sub conditione_).... Being now baptized and received into the Church,
you will go and kneel in the Confessional or other appointed place in the
church to make your confession, and to receive from the priest the
sacramental absolution. While receiving absolution you must renew your
sorrow and hatred of sin, and your resolution to amend, making a sincere
Act of Contrition."

Then, as the book was dropping from her hand, a few paragraphs further on
her eyes caught the words:

"If we are not able to remember the exact number of our sins, it is
enough to state the probable number to the best of our recollection and
judgment, saying: 'I have committed that sin about so many times a day, a
week, or a month.' Indeed, we are bound to reveal our conscience to the
priest as we know it ourselves, there and then stating the things certain
as certain, those doubtful as doubtful, and the probable number as
probable."

She threw away the book. She crouched in her chair beside Helbeck's
table, her small face buried despairingly in her hands. "I can't--I
can't! I would if I could--I can't!"

Through the shiver of an invincible repulsion that held her spoke a
hundred things--things inherited, things died for, things wrought out by
the moral experience of generations. But she could not analyse them. All
she knew were the two words--"I can't."