The Snowman nodded.
M. Morrie handed Bilbette a sack.
"Pay the sailors with this," he said. "Légolon will refuse to accept any money, but don't listen to the faithful old bo'sun." He smiled sadly. She nodded, as burning hot tears fell down her innocent face of pure devotion and utter goodness, lovely as a daffadowndilly painted by Hacheberri in ecstasy.
"And tell them... that they may seek other employm..." M. Morrie could not finish, but wept more than he had for any loss of pipe-weed. "Now," he added when he had recovered, "leave me for the moment; I must speak to monsieur."
Bilbette bowed her head, and departed, not without lancing in the direction of the Snowman a sublime look of supplication, to which he replied with a smile that a stolid observer would have been astonished to see blossom on that face of ice and snow.
"I see," said Lord Adam, "that another disaster, unmerited as the others, has whelmed you in its waves. This fact strengthens me in the intention I had already had, to treat you with such kindness as I can find in my wise heart."
