She looked straight, a little to the side of his white face. She was still. “We were young,” then she said.--I must speak. “And did not know. All that is past, but is good ... all ... since now we know.” “I have sinned deeply. Forgive me.” “You wandered loosely, because I held you loose: because you did not hold me. Now we clasp each other close. It is not a sin to have been a child.” “Bless you. Bless you.” “I have learned----“ “You have been always wonderful.” “No, Harry. I have learned. I have changed.” “You.... You have not needed to change.” She looked at him. “Two years you left me alone: and before that two years you left me alone while I was forced to live with a drunkard. Do you think these years did nothing to me?” “You suffered.” “And what might come of suffering!” “Fanny, my Christian wife, you were strong, you were not harmed by suffering. You remained pure. You have been not changed, dear: tempered.” “O Harry, I am afraid ... so afraid of your words.” “You are a Christian, dear, and do not know it. That is why you are frightened by my words.” “You never saw me, Harry.” “Yes, dear, always. Under a mist, but always. The mist lifted. Darling, I must tell you: that frightful immortal night ... you and Christ.... I saw you both at once together.” “You never saw me. You do not know how I have changed.” “You love me?” “O my darling!” “You suffered, waiting....” She put his hands together: helpless she beat her hands against his hands clasped hard. “You did not give up ... waiting, suffering?” “I knew you would come back. I saw you, always, coming. Now I know that.” “Then you have not changed. For you do love me, then.” “Harry, love to survive must change.” “Dear, dear ... you were right. I have told my sins. Each one. You have them all. You must remember them all. Let me hold you now, in silence.” “But Harry, perhaps I too have the need of telling.” “You have no sin.” “No Harry, I have no sin. But there are other tidings.” “Hush, dearest. Hold me----“ “Listen!” He looked at her. Impatience bit his lip, puckered his eyes slightly. “ ...Have you thought ever, Harry, of what I did, these years of waiting? of what I was? Harry, look at me clear. Have you ever tried to see me?” “My Christian wife!” --Patience, patience!... “Harry, this coming home must be beautiful, it must not be hideous. Give it your share of light, Harry. You must to save it, to make it. Look at me.” He puckered his brow: he suffered, looking at her beauty he would ... now he had confessed his sins ... have preferred to kiss.--All of you, hidden under your white prim dress! “It is so long since I have kissed you.” “Harry, your word sin, does it cover up from your eyes what you and I have done? Am I right, dearest, to fear your word sin?” --I want to kiss you. You are my wife and have forgiven me. I’m done with vices. I have the right, by God! to kiss your mouth and....