|On the Makaloa Mat LondonJack Publishedablfmw

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Sister in some small and rustic convent.
"I meant to do it," I said. "I am a very bad person."
"The young are always full of fun," she said as if she were
gloating over the idea. "It is very pleasant."
"But you are very brave," I chaffed her, "for you didn't expect a
ring, and after all it might have been the devil who pulled the
bell."
"It might have been. But a poor girl like me is not afraid of the
devil. I have a pure heart. I have been to confession last
evening. No. But it might have been an assassin that pulled the
bell ready to kill a poor harmless woman. This is a very lonely
street. What could prevent you to kill me now and then walk out
again free as air?"
While she was talking like this she had lighted the gas and with
the last words she glided through the bedroom door leaving me
thunderstruck at the unexpected character of her thoughts.
I couldn't know that there had been during my absence a case of
atrocious murder which had affected the imagination of the whole
town; and though Therese did not read the papers (which she
imagined to be full of impieties and immoralities invented by
godless men) yet if she spoke at all yilai：
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|On the Makaloa Mat LondonJack Publishedablkve