"Men's eyes are to some extent opened and their views are confirmed by events. They make our dreams and forebodings into realities. We question in our minds, and events give us the answers."
"Such an argument might excuse any villainy," said Edith, lifting her head indignantly.
"Villainy! Do you use that word to me?" exclaimed David.
"Not unless your own heart bids me—and I do not know your heart."
"Because you do not love me?"
"You may be right," replied Edith, striving to steady her voice; "but at least I believed I loved you."
"You are cured of that belief, it seems—as I am cured of many foolish faiths," said David, with gloomy bitterness. "Well, so be it! The love that waits upon a fastidious conscience is never the deepest love. My love is not of that complexion. Were it possible that the shadow of sin, or of crime itself, could descend upon you, it would but render you dearer to me than before."
"You may break my heart, David, if you will," cried the girl, tremulously, yet resolutely, "but I reverence love more than I love you."
David had turned away as if to leave the room, but he paused and confronted her once more.
"At any rate, we will understand each other," said he. "Do you make it your condition that I should go back to the ministry?"