” “You came—here!” he repeated, vaguely. The afternoon had passed now into twilight. ’ The lady uttered a scornful sound. Whether it was the nun’s habit or the harlot’s clothing that distressed her more, he could not begin to guess. " "Heaven have compassion on you, Rowland!" murmured his sister, crossing her hands and looking upwards; "you have none on me. She mentioned, with familiar respect, Christ and Buddha and Shelley and Nietzsche and Plato. And yet, as she rose slowly to her feet and stood looking at him with outstretched hands, a strange mixture of expressions shining in her wonderful eyes, he realized in some measure the strength of her determination, felt the utter impotence of anything which he could say to her. Abruptly would come the end.
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