Maybe he smokes cigarettes! Why does he fall for
light-mindedness? Why doesn't he feel the real beauty of services?--
the rumbling throb of the organ, and the thrill of hearing your own
voice singing sublime hymns, and the inspired swell of Reverend
MacGill's voice when he prays with such expression? It is real
ecstasy when you get the right kind of feeling--you're almost
willing to renounce earthly vanities. But Arthur doesn't realize
what it MEANS. How can I show him, dear Jesus? Because they've
forbidden me to have anything to do with him. Would it be right, for
the sake of his soul, for me to disobey them--just a little bit?.
For the sake of his soul, you know. And he's really a nice boy at
heart. THEY don't understand just how it is. But I don't think it
would be VERY wrong if I talked to him just a little--do you?"
Gradually it came over her that she was chilly; she dragged a
comforter from her bed and resumed her kneeling posture by the
window and her communings with Jesus and her conscience. Then she
discovered she was going off to sleep, so she sprang to her feet and
jumped back into bed.
Pages:
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253