french will. only for my voices, i would lose all heart. i'll tell you something, jack. it is in the bells that i hear my voices. not today when they all rang, that was nothing but jangling. but here in this corner, where the bells come down from the heaven and the echoes linger, or in the fields, where they come from a distance through the quiet of the countryside, my voices are in them. [bell rings the quarter hour] hark. do you hear? "dear-child-of-god" just what you said. at the half hour, they will say "be-brave-go-on." at the three-quarters, they will say "i-am-thy-help." but it is at the hour, when the great bell goes after, "god-will-save-france." it is then that st. margaret and st. catherine and sometimes even the blessed michael say things that i cannot tell beforehand. then, oh then-- then joan, we shall hear whatever we fancy in the booming of the bell. you make me uneasy when you talk about your voices. i should think you're a bit cracked, if i hadn't noticed that you give me very sensible reasons for what you do, though i hear you telling others that you are merely obeying m