"I am not trying to tempt you away from your calling.
Wouldn't it be better to talk about the weather?"
He was unable to answer her, but sat staring with hot eyes into her
face, feeling its beauty like a pain.
"It has been very cold for the season during the past week," she went
on.
"Miss Morison," he retorted hotly, "I had no right to say that, but you
needn't insult me. It is cruel enough as it is."
Her face softened a little, but she ignored his words.
"Tell me," she remarked, as if more personal subjects had not come into
the conversation, "what are the chances of the election? I hear so many
things said that I have ceased to have any clear ideas on the subject
at all."
Maurice sat upright, throwing back his shoulders. This girl should not
get the better of him. He lifted his head, his nostrils distending.
"It is too soon to speak with certainty," he responded; "but it is in
regard to that that I came--that I was sent to see you this afternoon.
We are under vows of obedience at the Clergy House."
He said this defiantly, fancying he saw in her face a smile at the idea
of his servitude.
Pages:
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378