The crowning aspect of the incident, for her mind, was the discovery that he and her indiscretion with him no longer mattered very much. Yet her aunt, with a ringed hand flitting to her lips and a puzzled, worried look in her eyes, deaf to all this riot of warmth and flitting desire, was playing Patience—playing Patience, as if Dionysius and her curate had died together. But about dat jonker," he continued, lowering his voice; "have you anything to add consarnin' him? It's almosht a pity to put him onder de water. He will not help them—and I told Emile so—and thus he sends them to my other grandpére, even that he knows he is dead.
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