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 "What holds you in them isn't of themselves."

"Isn't it?"

"It's simply a manifestation."

She failed to understand him.

"They are able to help you—that is their privilege and God's will. But they can't do everything."

"They do, you see; they see I can't do anything to help myself, and I suppose there must be a great many other people like me. They get at something I can't reach and hand it down to me—I could put it like that, couldn't I? That's what saints have always done, it seems to me."

"Nobody was ever meant to be a go-between," he said with energy. "You've simply no conception"

"I get everything I want that way," she said placidly. "I'm a very weak sort of person, I only want to be helped. Saints are the sort of people who've been always helping people like me; I thought I'd like to put up a window as a sort of thank-offering to them. Crowds and crowds of people I wanted to put in, all with those yellow circles round