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"The Guests Of Hercules"

The cure's kind heart gave him great tact.
"I am to go downstairs and look at this lady, then?" he said.
"Downstairs?"
"Only my expression for going down _there_. I always say that I live
upstairs, here at Roquebrune. And I like the upstairs life best."
"Well, you must come down and dine with me, anyhow. Then you will see
her, and tell me what you think."
The cure broke into a laugh, like a boy's. "Me dine at your Hotel de
Paris, my son? That is a funny thought. You're inconsistent. If you
think it unsuitable for a lady alone, what about me, a poor country
priest from the mountains?"
"You wouldn't be alone. And you're a man. Besides, it's a good object.
When you've seen her, you must make acquaintance with her somehow. _I_
won't do it. Not while I doubt her."
"Hm! My Principino, you don't know what you are asking me. I am a
priest."
"That's why I ask you. She's--I'll tell you, Father, if she goes on
winning money, you can write to beg for your poor. Then, if she's
charitable, she'll give, and come up to see your church."
"And you think the rest is simple! Well, for your sake I will do what I
can."
"Will you dine with me to-night?"
"Impossible. I cannot leave the village for so much as an hour for the
present. I am shepherd of a mountain flock, remember, and my first duty
is to them. At any moment I may have a summons to one who is dying. A
black sheep he has been perhaps, but all the more should he be washed
white at the last.


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