but what had knocked me over was getting it let out of me too suddenly. Nature gives good fighting men more blood than they really need.
Where is your angel companion?" I asked.
"She is visiting a woman who has a new baby. Isn't she a dear?"
"She is more than that. I can't say what she makes me feel. I'd rather not try. Why can't all children have mothers like that? The prisons would all have steeples on 'em in ten years, and graft would be as rare as cannibalism."
Rosalie nodded, looking rather thoughtful. "I suppose God cultivates them, just as He does rare flowers," said she. "When He thinks they're too good for us He takes them to heaven, where they'll be appreciated. There are actually people in the quarter who are nasty to Sœur Anne Marie simply because she is a nun."
"I'd like to catch 'em at it!" I growled.
Rosalie gave me a pensive look. You are a good deal of a savage, aren't you?" said she.
"My real nature is nearer the surface than most people's," I answered.
She nodded. "I know. I'm a bit that way myself. I could live a thousand years in a convent or work among the poor, or suffer, or enjoy, but I'd always be a bit of a savage. In spite of my convent training and Sœur Anne Marie's influence, it blazes out once in a while."
"How does it blaze out?" I asked.
Her colour deepened. Rosalie's skin was of that clear sort that the weather seems to have no effect upon, and the rich blood was always going and
