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Being a Chinaman in blood and instinct, he despised all spinsters; they were parasites. The chapel was situated in the old ballroom, and from there, down a few stairs, the vestry had taken the place of the pantry next to the kitchens. He was not addicted to monologue, and the only audible comment he permitted himself at first upon a universe that was evidently anything but satisfactory to him that afternoon, was one compact and entirely unassigned “Damn!” The word must have had some gratifying quality, because he repeated it. For a nun at night it is less dangerous than for the jeune demoiselle. She sprang to her feet and stood listening with parted lips and eager eyes. Very romantic and all that.
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