But only psalms, only godly hymns, never anything else.
What devil whispered in his ear, "She never heard anything else.

She would have loved this too, this too, if she had had the chance, if she had heard Mary play!" He put his hands to his ears, and almost ran on.
Where was he going?
He did not ask, did not think.

He only knew that it was a relief to be walking, to get farther and farther away from what he loved and fain would cherish, from what he hated and would fain destroy.
The grass grew long and rank under his feet; he stumbled, and paused for a moment, out of breath, to look about him.

He was in the old burying-ground, the grey stones rearing their heads to peer at him as he hurried on.

Ah, there was one stone here that belonged to him.