the soul into which believers cast their sins. He entered the center door, which he closed behind him, and Madame Walter, throwing herself into the narrow recess at the side, stammered fervently, with a passionate burst of hope: “Bless me father, for I have sinned.”
Du Roy, having taken a turn round the choir, was passing down the left aisle. He had got halfway when he met the stout, bald gentleman still walking quietly along, and said to himself: “What the deuce is that customer doing here?”
The promenader had also slackened his pace, and was looking at George with an evident wish to speak to him. When he came quite close he bowed, and said in a polite fashion: “I beg your pardon, sir, for troubling you, but can you tell me when this church was built?”
Du Roy replied: “Really, I am not quite certain. I think within the last twenty or five-and-twenty years. It is, besides, the first time I ever was inside it.”