Now he was in his habit, smooth-faced and shaven, tired and oppressed, still weak from the pangs of soul-birth.

He was further from human love, but nearer the Divine, he thought.
He sat with his father a few minutes after compline; and Sir James spoke more frankly of the news that they had heard.
"If she is really a friend of Mr.More's," he said, "she may be his salvation.

I am sorely disappointed in him.

I did not know Master Cromwell when I sent him to him, as I do now.

Is it my fault, Chris ?" * * * * * Chris told his father presently of what the Prior had said as to Ralph's assistance in the matter of the visit that the two monks had paid to the Tower; and asked an interpretation.
Sir James sat quiet a minute or two, stroking his pointed grey beard softly, and looking into the hearth.
"God forgive me if I am wrong, my son," he said at last, "but I wonder whether they let the my Lord Prior go to the Tower in order to shake the confidence of both.