"But has he a wife?" he asked gravely.
"Meaning to remind me that I have a husband?" she gayly returned. "Yes;
we are both of us married. To think," she continued, spreading out her
hands and appealing to the universe at large, "that such simplicity
exists! Where have you been all your life? Did you never kiss a lady's
hand--or a lady's lips, for that matter?"
"I think you forget, Mrs. Wilson," Ashe said with real dignity, "that I
am a priest."
She regarded him with lifted brows for a moment. Then she moved to a
seat.
"Come," said she; "sit down and talk to me. Where have you passed your
life? You cannot have been brought up in a monastery, for we don't have
them in our church."
"It is a great pity," responded Philip, obeying her command, and
seating himself in a large arm-chair near her.
"Do you really mean it?" was her reply. "Yes, I believe you do! You
were evidently born to be a monk. Oh, how _triste_ it must be to be
made without an appreciation of us!"
He remained silent, his face more grave than ever.
"Well," she went on, settling herself comfortably in the corner of her
sofa amid a pile of sumptuous cushions, "tell me something about your
life.
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