"God forgive me for using such a word!" he cried, in a troubled tone; "if I hadn't yielded to my wife's silly request, this wouldn't have happened!" CHAPTER VII. ” “What do you mean—by too late?” he demanded. I have always been lonely. The nun on the threshold was of middle age and heavily built, her back uneven from toil and her hands roughened. Her answer was not quite ready. To walk beside him, dressed akin to him, rucksacked and companionable, was bliss in itself; each step she took was like stepping once more across the threshold of heaven.
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