Marriage had not been in his mind when he spoke to the woman.

He had meant only to give her a home.

But to her the idea had come naturally from his words, and he began to see that it was, indeed, not an unnatural thing to do.

He dwelt long on this new idea, picturing at intervals the woman's lack of any charm or beauty, her painful emaciation, her weakness.
Passing through another village later in the day, he saw the youth who had been so unfortunate as to love this girl in defiance of his Bishop.
Unmolested for the time, the imbecile would go briskly a few steps and then pause with an important air of the deepest concern, as if he were engaged on an errand of grave moment.

He was thinly clad and shivering in the chill of the late October afternoon.
Again, still later in the day, he overtook and passed the gaunt, gray woman who forever sought her husband.