“Impossible!” “Not in the least. In this one interview with me you have said enough against the Serpent to set all its scales and coils bristling, and its fangs working.” “I have said nothing.” “‘Cruel and deceitful,’ were not those your words?” “Yes; but to tear my tongue out would not be to prove it otherwise. The Serpent’s wisdom should assert itself and prove the opposite. You were also in the Holiest Place.” “Of course; but for a man the offence is not so capital.” “Tomatoes and salt,” said Rosalie, and she laughed. He laughed also. “Your impudence is only beaten by your ignorance.” “As often as I offend solely with my tongue, you must take the blame yourself. I think you must have oiled the wheels too freely.” “It is a good thing you have no relatives, Miss Paleaf; they would have missed you, disappearing so suddenly.” “Under the circumstances, I suppose it is.” “Were you happy with them?” “Oh, yes! As happy as the day, when we were in prosperity. But this last year has been nothing but shadow and poverty, and I don’t think I ever realised how many things I had to be thankful for till they were all gone.” “The gift of speech does not compensate for all things, then?” “I don’t know. I have had it so short a time.” “You are longing for freedom, and can find nothing to compensate for the bitterness of its loss. Is not that it?” “I don’t think it is only that. My aunt was only buried the day before yesterday. I should be very callous and ungrateful if I could forget her so readily.” “Yet you cannot deny the events of the past day have put a great gulf betwixt you and her.” “Yes; I could think she had died a year ago along with uncle. Poor thing! It would have been so much better if she had done so, I think.” “How long do you think your term of imprisonment will last?” Rosalie shook her head. “I don’t know. The future has always been a blank to me. I never built those castles in the air that many love to build.” “How about your prayer to find a tongue?” “I don’t know. I longed to speak, but never looked into a future crowned by successful prayer.” “Well, your term of imprisonment here lasts three years.” “It is a long time.” “On the contrary, reckoned justly, a very short one.” “What do you mean by ‘reckoned justly’?” He took up a bundle of filed papers from the table. “These are accounts of long standing,” he answered gravely. “It is strange how quickly a high rate of interest accumulates. What you wipe off in three years or less by ready payments, some are leaving till a future date, till it accumulates and doubles, then maybe trebles, and some day swamps them.” Rosalie’s eyes opened with unfeigned surprise. “But whom is the money owed to?” “To me.” “Have you all those debtors?”