Always her prayers ended—'And may my beautiful mother guide me!' No. The trees were graceful and brown, arching and fanning their golden leaves as if to shower with coins the pink-gold sky. ‘Jacques,’ she said, turning to the lad, and holding the habit out, ‘take this for me and leave it in the passage where we have left the lantern. It isn't as if he were stricken with typhoid or pneumonia or something like that. “You have changed somehow—and you certainly are less friendly. What you would look upon as immorality is here merely an established custom, three thousand years older than Christianity, accepted with no more ado than that which would accompany you should you become a clerk in a shop.
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