She remembered Edith's words to her not two hours ago: "If you could only see how unspeakably sacred the human part of us is, and how pathetic." Surely she saw.
The deep feeling and enchantment of the woods was upon her.

He was sacred to her; and for pathos, it seemed to her that there was poured upon his stooping body all the pathos of all the living creatures of God.
She saw deeper.

In the illumination that rested on him there, she saw the significance of that carelessness, that happiness of his which had once troubled her.

It was simply that his experience, his detestable experience, had had no power to harm his soul.

Through it all he had preserved, or, by some miracle of God, recovered an incorruptible innocence.