That scene flashed before him.
There came an opposing thought.

As Madame Chalice had said, either as prince or barber, he was playing a terrible game.

Why shouldn't he get all he could out of it while it lasted--let the world break over him when it must?
Why should he stand in an orchard of ripe fruit, and refuse to pick what lay luscious to his hand, what this stupid mealman below would pick, and eat, and yawn over?
There was the point.

Wouldn't the girl rather have him, Valmond, at any price, than the priest-blessed love of Duclosse and his kind?
The thought possessed, devoured him for a moment.

Then suddenly there again rang in his ears the words which had haunted him all day: "Holy bread, I take thee; If I die suddenly, Serve me as a sacrament." They passed backwards and forwards in his mind for a little time with no significance.