"
"But they did help me," she said. "They were with me. I remembered what we
had talked about before them."
He nodded his head. "I had intended that you should. I was rightly
inspired."
"Without them," she went on, "I don't know what I should have done. It
seems absurd to say so, but--"
He interrupted. "It's not absurd at all--to you and me. If it's absurd,
then Art is pastry-cook-stuff: sugar and white-of-egg. The man who
fashioned these things had walked with God. Here are his secrets, revealed
to you and me."
She followed her own thoughts, not his. "I came to--day because I have
made up my mind. I wanted them to confirm me--to say that I was right. If
you weren't here, I should go up to them and whisper to them, as I've seen
women do to the Madonna abroad. I should tell them everything."
He looked at her keenly. "Do it now. I'll leave you."
She smiled faintly. "No, don't leave me. I couldn't do it now. But I meant
to when I came in."
"You didn't think that I might be here?" He watched her.
"No. I remember that you said we were to meet on Thursday. And I have a
great deal to think of; I'm in great trouble."
"I know you are," he said. "I fear to be impertinent; but if I can help
you---"
She gave him a grateful look.
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