She held them out to him.
"I do not sell flowers here, but I will _give_ them to you," she said, in her pretty grave childish fashion.
"I often want flowers," said the stranger, as he took the buds.

"Where do you sell yours ?--in the market ?" "In the Grande Place." "Will you tell me your name, pretty one ?" "I am Bebee." There were people coming into the church.

The bells were booming abovehead for vespers.

There was a shuffle of chairs and a stir of feet.
Boys in white went to and fro, lighting the candles.

Great clouds of shadow drifted up into the roof and hid the angels.
She nodded her little head to him.
"Good night; I cannot stay.