"Suppose dad should be true w'at doze peop' say 'bout Ursin."
"_Qui ci ca_? What is that?" asked the quadroone, stopping her fan.
"Some peop' say Ursin is crezzie."
"Ah, Pere Jerome!" She leaped to her feet as if he had smitten her, and
putting his words away with an outstretched arm and wide-open palm,
suddenly lifted hands and eyes to heaven, and cried: "I wizh to God--_I
wizh to God_--de whole worl' was crezzie dad same way!" She sank,
trembling, into her chair. "Oh, no, no," she continued, shaking her
head, "'tis not Miche Vignevielle w'at's crezzie." Her eyes lighted with
sudden fierceness. "'Tis dad _law_! Dad _law_ is crezzie! Dad law is a
fool!"
A priest of less heart-wisdom might have replied that the law is--the
law; but Pere Jerome saw that Madame Delphine was expecting this very
response. Wherefore he said, with gentleness:
"Madame Delphine, a priest is not a bailiff, but a physician. How can I
help you?"
A grateful light shone a moment in her eyes, yet there remained a
piteous hostility in the tone in which she demanded:
"_Mais, pou'quoi ye, fe cette mechanique la?_"--What business had they
to make that contraption?
His answer was a shrug with his palms extended and a short, disclamatory
"Ah.
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