We grow so soon accustomed to allowing ourselves to dwell only upon the abstract or the divine." "That is a loss," said the Bishop.

He turned and began to pace slowly toward the cloister; "a grievous loss, my daughter.

Sooner than that you should suffer that loss, beyond repair, I would let the daring Knight of the Bloody Vest carry you off on swift wing.

Better a robin's nest, if, love be there, than a nunnery full of dead hearts." He heard the quick catch of her breath, but gave her no chance to speak.
"'And now abideth faith, hope, love, these three,'" quoted the Bishop; "'but the greatest of these is love.'" They were moving through the cloisters.

The Prioress turned in the doorway, pausing that the Bishop might pass in before her.
"This, my lord," she said, with a fine sweep of her arm, "is the abode of Faith and Hope, and also of that divine Love, which excelleth both Hope and Faith." "Nay," said the Bishop, "I pray you, listen.