She sat with her palms laid on her lap, and stared at the blurred outline of the chalk-hills--blurred by the mist in her eyes.

Two great tears welled and splashed down on the back of her hand.
"The years and years," she murmured, "before I can begin to pay it back!" "Nay"-- Brother Copas set down his half-filled glass, took the hand and gently wiped it with the sleeve of his frayed gown; and so held it, smoothing it while he spoke, as though the tear had hurt it--"it is we who are repaying you.

Shall I tell you what I told the Master?
'Master,' I said, 'all we Brethren, ever since I can remember, have been wearing gowns as more or less conscious humbugs.
Christ taught that poverty was noble, and such a gospel might be accepted by the East.

It might persevere along the Mediterranean coast, and survive what St.Paul did to Christianity to make Christianity popular.

It might reach Italy and flame up in a crazed good soul like the soul of St.Francis.