"It is hard to say, Teresa. There are deceptions everywhere, in the
convent as in the world; and the mediocrity of the Sisters here is
tiresome; one longs for a little more intelligence. And, as I was
saying just now, everything declines; an idea ravels like a sleeve.
Are you happy here?... You are not; I see it in your eyes."
"The only ones who are happy here," Evelyn answered, "I am sure, are
those like Veronica, who pass from the schoolroom to the novitiate."
"You think that? But the convent is a great escapement. You came
here, having escaped death only by an accident, and when you went to
Rome to see your father you came back distraught, your mind unhinged,
and it was months before you could believe that your sins could be
forgiven. If you leave here, what will become of you? You will return
to the stage."
Evelyn smiled sadly.
"You will meet your lovers again. Temptation will be by you; you are
still a young woman. How old are you, Teresa?"
"Thirty-eight. But I no longer feel young."
"Then, do you not think it better to spend the last term with us? I
am an old woman, Teresa, and you are the only friend I have in the
convent, the only one who knows me; it would be a great charity if
you were to remain with me.
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