And so they passed together out of the shadows, into the light of day.
But it was the day of April greys and sunlight that is Life, and not
the June glory that is Illusion. Irene’s eyes were opened; but if her
outlook was more sombre, the ground beneath her feet was more secure. A
sense, too, of aloneness came, but, womanlike, she hid it in her heart,
and the man walked with her unwitting, with regained buoyancy of step.
An erring, faulty woman, yet of stronger stuff than the impetuous man
she loved so deeply, she felt at times a pathetic longing for the old
blind worship. At such times she would look wistfully at her boy, asking
herself a foolish question; and her sweet human frailty sought to read
the answer in the child’s unfathomable eyes.
THE END.
End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Idols, by William J. Locke