Please say it! The hand holding the stockwhip stirred threateningly, and the hymn was almost lost in the agitation of the worshippers.

Chris remained silent, and Harry, who had taken the book again, had shifted his stern eyes to the slim white thumb beside his broad brown one.

A stifled sob at his side startled him, and he turned a swift glance upon the face of his companion.

That one glance, the first, left his brave resolution shaken and his spirit awed.
Harry remembered Chris as a schoolgirl, tall and stag-like, always running, her rebellious knees tossing up scant petticoats, her long hair rarely leaving more than one eye visible through its smother of tangled silk.

She was very brown then and very bony, and so ridiculously soft of heart that her tenderness was regarded by her schoolmates as an unfortunate infirmity.