she said:

'Well, let us stay here, then. I wish to speak to you. You cannot,
surely, be cruel. You will understand me. You will not let me go away
alone. Oh! do not begin to excuse yourself. I will not lay my hands upon
you again, since it distresses you. I am quite calm now as you can see.
We will talk quietly, as we used to do in the old days when we lost our
way, and did not hurry to find it again, that we might have the more
time to talk together.'

She smiled at that memory, and continued:

'I don't know about these things myself. My uncle Jeanbernat used to
forbid me to go to church. "Silly girl," he'd say to me, "why do you
want to go to a stuffy building when you have got a garden to run about
in?" I grew up quite happy and contented. I used to look in the birds'
nests without even taking the eggs. I did not even pluck the flowers,
for fear of hurting the plants; and you know that I could never torture
an insect. Why, then, should God be angry with me?'

'You should learn to know Him, pray to Him, and render Him the constant
worship which is His due,' answered the priest.

'Ah! it would please you if I did, would it not?' she said. 'You would
forgive me, and love me again? Well, I will do all that you wish me.
Tell me about God, and I will believe in Him, and worship Him. All that
you tell me shall be a truth to which I will listen on my knees. Have I
ever had a thought that was not your own? We will begin our long walks
again; and you shall teach me, and make of me whatever you will. Say
"yes," I beg of you.'

Abbe Mouret pointed to his cassock.

'I cannot,' he simply said. 'I am a priest.'

'A priest!' she repeated after him, the smile dying out of her eyes. 'My
uncle says that priests have neither wife, nor sister, nor mother. So
that is true, then. But why did you ever come? It was you who took me
for your sister, for your wife. Were you then lying?'

The priest raised his pale face, moist with the sweat of agony. 'I have
sinned,' he murmured.

'When I saw you so free,' the girl went on, 'I thought that you were
no longer a priest. I believed that all that was over, that you would
always remain there with me, and for my sake.---- And now, what would
you have me do, if you rob me of my whole life?'

'What I do,' he answered; 'kneel down, suffer on your knees, and never
rise until God pardons you.'

'Are you a coward, then?' she exclaimed, her anger roused once more, her
lips curving scornfully