Jerusalem. And the hearts of all in the land did answer daily to
that sweet and lively faith, insomuch that even in times of war the
zeal of the people became an holy zeal, and their warfare noble; so
that they did accept both victory and defeat with equal humbleness.
Because there was no war in their hearts, but peace, and they did
fight to defend and not to acquire, they buried their foe with tears
and their own with singleness of heart and quiet joy, for that they
did rest from their labours. In this manner was the great tragedy
and glory of the world made to the people a present thing,
transforming them to the body of the Life that hath neither spot nor
blemish nor..."

Charley had not heard Rosalie enter, nor her footsteps in the hall. But
now there ran through his reading a thread of something not of himself
or of it. He had thrilled to the archaic but clear-hearted style of the
old German chronicler, and the warmth he felt had passed into his voice,
so that it became louder.

As Rosalie listened to his reading, a hundred thoughts rushed through
her mind. Paulette Dubois, the wanton woman, had just left his doorway
secretly, yet there he was, instantly after, calmly reading a pious
book! Her mind was in tumult. She could not reason, she could not rule
her judgment. She only knew that the woman had come from this house,
and hurried guiltily away into the dark. She only knew that the man the
woman had left here was the man she loved--loved more than her life, for
he embodied all her past; all her present--she knew that she could
not live without him; all her future--for where he went she would go,
whatever the fate.

Her judgment had been swept from its moorings. She had been carried on
the wave of her heart's fever into this room, not daring to think this
or that, not planning this or that, not accusing, not reproaching, not
shaming herself and him by black suspicion, but blindly, madly demanding
to see him, to look into his eyes, to hear his voice, to know him,
whatever he was--man, lover, or devil. She was a child-woman--a child
in her primitive feelings that threw aside all convention, because
there was no wrong in her heart; a woman, because she was possessed by
a jealousy which shamed and angered her, because its very existence
put him on trial, condemned him. Her soul was the sport of emotions and
passions stronger than herself, because the heritage, the instinct, of
all t