"Art thou a monk?"

"Nay, a novice only."

"Hast thou ever loved?"

Hilarius threw up his hands in shocked indignation, but she went on
unconcerned -

"'Twas a foolish question; the answer's writ large for any maid to
read. But tell me, why art thou angry at the thought of love?"

Hilarius felt the ground slipping from under his feet.

"There is an evil love, and a holy love; it is good to love God and
the Saints and the Brethren--"

"But not the sisters?" the wicked little laugh pealed out. "Poor
sisters! Why, boy, the world is full of love, and not all for the
Saints and the Brethren, and it is good--good--good!" She opened
her arms wide. "'Tis the devil and the monks who call it evil.
Hast thou never seen the birds mate in the springtime, nor heard
the nightingale sing?"

"It is well for a husband to love his wife, and a mother her child.
That is love in measure, but not so high as the love we bear to God
and the Saints!" quoth Hilarius sententiously, mindful of
yesterday's homily in the Frater.

"But how can'st thou know that thou lovest the Saints?" the dancer