He says something about: "It's empty—it's still empty for us—Whitehouse."
Some one opens the church door. Young voices and music that have been muffled come streaming through towards them—
Who shall ascend into the hill of the Lord: or who shall rise up in his holy place?
Even he that hath clean hands and a pure heart: and that hath not lift up his mind unto vanity, nor sworn to deceive his neighbour.
A sound escapes him. He feels a sudden moisture from her face to his. The singing goes deeper; then with triumphant surge and sweep breaks out again:
"Lift up your heads, O ye gates, and be ye lift up, ye everlasting doors...."
"What, are you crying too?" says Essie. "Aren't we a pair of us, though?"
THE END
By the author of "The Clean Heart"