Out of her breast, out of her heart, with arms laden to the breaking--dragged down by the weight of her gifts, she will give, and give, and give, holding nothing back, grudging nothing, forgetting all she has ever given in the blind joy of what is left to be bestowed.

This, when it comes to a woman, is what she means by love as she kneels down in the silent chapel of her own heart and worships.

This was the passion as Sally understood it.

Her whole desire was to give, and to Mr.Arthur she could have given nothing.
"What did he say ?" asked Traill, quietly.

A man always speaks somewhat in awe, somewhat in deference, of another whose hopes have been flung to the ground; speaks of him as if he were a prisoner in a condemned cell--fool enough no doubt, but made a man again by the meeting of his fate.