’ ‘But, Marthe, you do not imagine that I would have taken the veil like you, even if you have not told me. The back of the house had been the Alps for climbing, and the shrubs in front of it a Terai. He had an air of having told her a deep, personal secret. It would be useless to tell her to go back, even heartless; and yet he could not advise her to go on, blindly, not knowing whether her aunt was dead or alive. “My sister and I,” she said slowly, “have seen very little of each other lately. He conveyed not only his sense of the extreme want of correctitude in their unsanctioned meetings, but also that, so far as he was concerned, this irregularity mattered not at all, that he had flung—and kept on flinging—such considerations to the wind.
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