“You never answered my letter.”
“No, there was no answer. I came back.”
“You did not let me know.”
“You will find a message at your rooms when you get back.”
He walked up and down the room. He knew at once that all he had done hitherto had been in vain. The battle was still before him. She sat and watched him with an inscrutable smile. Once as he passed her, she laid her hand upon his arm. He stopped at once.
“Your white flower was born to die and to wither,” she said. “A night’s frost would have killed it as surely as the lowland air. It is like these violets.” She took a bunch from her bosom. “This morning they were fresh and beautiful. Now they are crushed and faded! Yet they have lived their life.”
She threw them down upon the floor.
“Do you think a woman is like that?” she said softly. “You are very, very ignorant! She has a soul.”
He held out his hand.
“A soul to keep white and pure. A soul to give back—to God!”