'It was to you that I went for advice five years ago, and again before I took the veil.

If you had thought it even distantly possible that he might be alive, you would not have let me take final vows.' 'Heaven forbid!' answered Monsignor Saracinesca very earnestly.
'Though I believed him dead, you knew that I loved him with all my heart.' 'Yes.

As dearly as when you had last seen him alive.' 'I love him still.

Is that wrong ?' 'No.' He said the word without hesitation, in all sincerity and true conviction, but the nun had expected another answer; a quick movement of the head showed that she was surprised.
'Are you sure ?' she asked in a low and wondering tone.
'Yes, because I am sure that your love for him is as innocent as it ever was.

The religious life is not meant to kill human affection.
Saint Benedict loved his sister Scholastica devotedly; Saint Francis was probably more sincerely attached to Saint Clare than to any living person.' 'I only know that I love him as dearly as ever,' said Sister Giovanna.
The churchman looked at her keenly for a moment, and she did not avoid his eyes.
'Would you break your vows for him ?' he asked, with sudden directness.
The nun started as if he had struck her and half rose from her chair.
'Break my vows ?' she cried, her eyes blazing with indignation.
But Monsignor Saracinesca only nodded and laid his thin hand flat on the table, towards her.