But it is that--a thing born."
"I don't understand--in the least," Alicia exclaimed.
"Neither do I. I don't indeed. Sometimes I feel like a creature with its
feet in a trap. The insane, _insane_ improbability of it!" She laughed
again. It was delicious to hear her.
"But--he is a priest!"
"Much more difficult. He is a saint."
Alicia glanced at the floor. The record of another lighter moment
twitched itself out of a day that was forgotten.
"Are you quite certain?" she said. "You told me once that--that there
had been other times."
"They are useful, those foolish episodes. They explain to one the
difference." The tone of this was very even, very usual, but Alicia was
aware of a suggestion in it that accused her of aggression, that almost
ranged her hostile. She hurried out of that position.
"If it were possible," she said, frowning at her embarrassment. "I see
nothing--nothing _really_--against it."
"I should think not! Can't you conceive what I could do for him?"
"And what could he do for you?" Alicia asked, with a flash of curiosity.
"I don't think I can let you ask me that."
"There are such strange things to consider! Would he withdraw from the
Church? Would you retire from the stage? I don't know which seems the
more impossible!"
Hilda got up.
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