His fingers went from habit, as a man might
play with his watch chain, to the symbol of his faith; her eyes followed
them, and rested mutely on the cross. There was a profundity of feeling
in them, wistful, acknowledging, deeply speculative. "You could not
forget that?" she said, and shook her head as if she answered herself.
He looked into her upturned face and saw that her eyes were swimming.

"Never!" he said, "Never!" but he walked to the nearest chair and sat
down. He seemed suddenly endowed with the courage to face this problem,
and his head, as it rose in the twilight against the window, was grave
and calm. Without a word a great tenderness of understanding filled the
space between them; an interpreting compassion went to and fro. Suddenly
a new light dawned in Hilda's eyes, she leaned forward and met his in
an absorption which caught them out of themselves into some space where
souls wander, and perhaps embrace. It was a frail adventure upon a gaze,
but it carried them infinitely far. The moment died away, neither of
them could have measured it, and when it had finally ebbed--they were
conscious of every subsiding throb--the silence remained, like a margin
for the beauty of it. They sat immovable, while the light faded. After a
time the woman spoke. "Once before," she began, but he put up his hand,
and she stopped. Then as if she would no longer be restrained. "That is
all I want," she whispered. "That is enough."

For a time they said very little, looking back upon their divine
moment; the shadows gathered in the corners of the room and made quiet
conversation which was almost audible in the pauses. Then Hilda began
to speak, steadily, calmly. You, too, would have forgotten her folly in
what she found to say, as Arnold did; you too would have drawn faith and
courage from her face. One would not be irreverent, but if this woman
were convicted of the unforgiveable sin, she could explain it, and
obtain justification rather than pardon. Her horizon had narrowed, she
sought now only that it should enfold them both. She begged that
he would wipe out her insanity, that he would not send her away. He
listened and melted to conviction.

"Then I may stay?" she said at the end.

"I am satisfied--if a way can be found."

"I will find a way," she replied.

After which he went back through the city streets to his disciples in
new humility and profounder joy, knowing that virtue had gone out of
him. She in her room whe