Quick, man, quick.

I have much to do ere I die." As the steward hurried out, the Cluniac, remembering his office, sought to offer comfort, but in his bland worldling's voice the consolations sounded hollow.

She lay motionless, while he quoted the Scriptures.
Encouraged by her docility, he spoke of the certain reward promised by Heaven to the rich who remembered the Church at their death.

He touched upon the high duties of his Order and the handicap of its poverty.

He bade her remember her debt to the Abbot of Cluny.
She seemed about to speak and he bent eagerly to catch her words.
"Peace, you babbler," she said.