"It isn't wrong to love--but sometimes love should be denied." Diane drew nearer to him, and laid her hand on his arm.
"Not ours, Hugh," she whispered.

"Not love like ours--" "Be silent!" Hugh sprang to his feet, his eyes ablaze, his voice hoarse and shaking.
"Don't tempt me! Do you think I've found it easy to decide on this?
When every fibre of my body is calling out for you?
My God, no!" "Then don't do it! Hugh--dearest--" With sudden violence he caught her by the arms.
"Be silent, I tell you! Don't tempt me! I'll make my penance, accept the burden laid on me--that my first-born should be a girl!" Diane clung to him, resisting his attempt to thrust her from him.
"Hugh! Ah, wait! Listen to me!.

.

.

Dear, some day there may be a little son, yours and mine--" He flung her from him violently.
"There shall never be a son of ours! Never! It is the Will of God." With an immense effort he checked the rising frenzy within him--the ecstasy of the martyr embracing the stake to which he shall be bound.