More than once, of late, she had encountered such crowds made up of shrieking girls and foul- mouthed men, surging round some white-faced youngster while the well-dressed passers-by looked on and grinned.
She came to him and stood over him with her hands upon his shoulders.
"Must you, dear ?" she said.

"Can't you reconcile it to yourself--to go on with your work of mercy, of saving poor folks' lives ?" He raised his eyes to hers.

The shadow that, to her fancy, had always rested there seemed to have departed.

A light had come to them.
"There are more important things than saving men's bodies.

You think that, don't you ?" he asked.
"Yes," she answered.