Sister Giovanna was not a saint yet, but she was winning her way as she gained ground in the struggle that had been forced upon her that night, so cruelly against her will, and having got the better of a temptation, her charity made her think that Giovanni Severi was farther from it than he was.

Outward danger was near at hand, just when inward peril was passed.
As if he were weary of the contest of words, he left the writing-table, sat down in a big chair farther away, and stared at the pattern in the carpet.
'You are forcing me to extremities,' he said, after a long pause, and rather slowly.

'Unless you consent to appeal to the Pope for your freedom, I will not let you leave this house.

You are in my power here, and here you shall stay.' She was more surprised and offended than indignant at what she took for an empty threat, and she was not at all frightened.

Women never are, when one expects them to be.