The passion had gone out of his voice.
"You like her standing here between us?"
"I don't like to forget what must be remembered."
If Ethan were conscious that the mental apparition of the old woman with her silent, but effectual, "I forbid the banns"—if he were quite conscious that her coming brought behind the dash of disillusionment a sense, too, of reprieve, he forbore to say as much. It was enough that the first wearer of the sunken ring had made not only the difference to those two of being summoned out of the infinite, but the difference of holding them back from the infinite as well. The compact they had made was null and void as long as their common ancestress lived. Her character and influence built high an impregnable barrier between her descendants and this thing she would despise, and which they knew would give her her first taste of the cup of humiliation.
"It cannot be while she is in the world," said Ethan.
With unconscious cruelty the other answered:
"But she is very, very old, and we are young."
A sudden stifled cry rose apparently out of the bushes and tall water-weeds just to their left. Ethan sprang up.
"It's only those boys," said Val, as a chorus of confused exclamations came from beyond the Gray Pool.
"No, it was nearer. Didn't you hear a splash?"