"Bad form!" she exclaimed. "You accuse me of bad form." The Father slightly bowed his head like a man facing a wind. "I do," he said. "It's disgraceful. It's unnatural. I'd travel a bit at least." She placed her hand on her long throat. "I know what you mean," she said, "you want to spare Christopher . . . the humiliation. The . . . the nausea. No doubt he'll feel nauseated. I've reckoned on that. It will give me a little of my own back." The Father said: "That's enough, woman. I'll hear no more." Sylvia said: "You will then. Listen here. . . . I've always got this to look forward to: I'll settle down by that man's side. I'll be as virtuous as any woman. I've made up my mind to it and I'll be it. And I'll be bored stiff for the rest of my life. Except for one thing. I can torment that man. And I'll do it. Do you understand how I'll do it? There are many ways. But if the worst comes to the worst, I can always drive him silly . . . by corrupting the child!" She was panting a little, and round her brown eyes the whites showed. "I'll get even with him. I can. I know how, you see. And with you, through him, for tormenting me. I've come all the way from Brittany without stopping. I haven't slept. . . . But I can . . ." Father Consett put his hand beneath the tail of his coat. "Sylvia Tietjens," he said, "in my pistol pocket I've a little bottle of holy water which I carry for such occasions. What if I was to throw two drops of it over you and cry: _Exorciso te Ashtaroth in nomine?_ . . ." She erected her body above her skirts on the sofa, stiffened like a snake's neck above its coils. Her face was quite pallid, her eyes staring out. "You . . . you _daren't_," she said. "To me . . . an outrage!" Her feet slid slowly to the floor; she measured the distance to the doorway with her eyes. "You _daren't_," she said again; "I'd denounce you to the Bishop . . ." "It's little the Bishop would help you with them burning into your skin," the priest said. "Go away, I bid you, and say a Hail Mary or two. Ye need them. Ye'll not talk of corrupting a little child before me again." "I won't," Sylvia said. "I shouldn't have . . ." Her black figure showed in silhouette against the open doorway. When the door was closed upon them, Mrs. Satterthwaite said: "Was it necessary to threaten her with that? You know best, of course. It seems rather strong to me."