"You have both passed through deep waters.

You each owe it to the other to make all possible reparation." "For seven holy years," said the Prioress, firmly, "I have been the bride of Christ." "Do you love Hugh ?" asked the Bishop.
There was silence in the chamber.
The Prioress desired, most fervently, to take her stand as one dead to all earthly loves and desires.

Yet each time she opened her lips to reply, a fresh picture appeared in the mirror of her mental vision, and closed them.
She saw herself, with hand outstretched, clasping Hugh's as they kneeled together before the shrine of the Madonna.

She could feel the rush of pulsing life flow from his hand to the palm of hers, and so upward to her poor numbed heart, making it beat its wings like a caged bird.
She felt again the strength and comfort of the strong arm on which she leaned, as slowly through the darkness she and Hugh paced in silence, side by side.
She remembered each time when obedience had seemed strangely sweet, and she had loved the manly abruptness of his commands.
She saw Hugh, in the ring of yellow light cast by the lantern, kneeling at her feet.

She felt his hair, thick and soft, between her fingers.
And then--she remembered that shuddering sob, and the instant breaking down of every barrier.