But had he really become a monk?
Jeanne imagined that the colossal tower of Notre _Dame_, with its slender spire piercing the sky, the gloomy walls of the Beguinage, the poor stagnant Lac d'Amour, and even the solemn silence of the dead city, answered "Yes." But it would be superstitious to hearken to their voices.
"Where are we going ?" asked Jeanne, at ten o'clock, putting on her gloves, while Carlino, who had given Noemi an end of his interminable muffler to hold, the other being fastened behind his neck, revolved like a spindle on its axis, until his neck was bigger in circumference than his head.

"And am I really to be the priest of ninety ?" Carlino was annoyed because Noemi laughed, and did not hold the scarf tight enough.
"You or she, no matter which," he answered, when Noemi, having fastened the muffler with a pin, at last set the swathed novelist at liberty.

"Go wherever you like, provided you go towards the centre of the town, and return by the other side of the Lac d'Amour, and talk of something that interests you particularly." "With you present ?" said Noemi.

"How can that be possible ?" Carlino explained that he would not walk with them, but would follow, note-book and pencil in hand.

They would be obliged to halt from time to time according to his pleasure, and must be prepared to obey any other orders he might see fit to issue.