Angelique came back to the main walk, picking her way with slipper toes,
and offered part of her spoil to Rice. He took some roses, and held the
hand which gave them. She had come in his way too soon after his mocking
little talk with young Pierre Menard. He was occupied with other things,
but that had made him feel a sudden need.
Angelique blushed in the dense twilight, her face taking childlike lines
of apprehension. Her heart sank, and she suffered for him vicariously
in advance. Her sensibility to other presences was so keen that she had
once made it a subject of confession. "Father, I cannot feel any
separateness from the people around me. Is this a sin?" "Believe that
you have the saints and holy angels also in your company, and it will be
no sin," answered Father Olivier.
Though she was used to these queer demonstrations of men, her conscience
always rebuked her for the number of offers she received. No sooner did
she feel on terms of excellent friendliness with any man than he began
to fondle her hand and announce himself her lover.
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