She had sat immovable, her eyes upon his face, her hands gripping the arms of her chair.

Long before the tale was finished her sad eyes had overflowed, the tears raining down her cheeks, and falling upon the cross at her breast.
When he had told all, when the deep, manly voice--now resolute, now eager, now vibrant with fierce indignation, yet tender always when speaking of her--at last fell silent, the Prioress fought with her emotion, and mastered it; then, so soon as she could safely trust her voice, she spoke..