THE MAYFLIES 118 



tops of walnut-trees, and then a great 

 menhir, still as a sentry, guarding the 

 landes ; there is grey space beyond and 

 clustered stone, and solitude as far as 

 eye can see. This little window brings 

 you back to Brittany. It was here that 

 we learnt about it all, the story of the 

 ancient stones, from Suzanne perched 

 upon the window-sill, while from their 

 nests above, the martins chirped in under- 

 song. 



It was ripe autumn-time when first the 

 Holy Virgin came to Brittany. She had 

 often promised herself this holiday, having 

 heard so much of Bretagne-Armorique 

 from her beloved Mother, the good 

 St. Anne. 



You must know that in the courts of 

 heaven everyone is very busy ; what with 

 liturgies, sacred music, and processions, 

 one's time is fully occupied. Yet there 

 are moments between the various prayers 

 and canticles for whispered conversations. 

 You can almost see those two, their heads 

 bent close, Madame St. Anne describing 

 every detail of her famous Church of 

 St. Anne d'Auray, the while her soft- 



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