The Archbishop resigned himself to what he could not avoid. "If you must," he said. And then, thinking forward to what might possibly happen, he added: "It was my duty to tell you everything."
"Yes," she replied, "but you did not mean to tell me at first."
"I hoped that I might spare you," he explained. "These are not things that one speaks of willingly; if they can be avoided it is better that they should not be known."
She gave a gesture of impatience, pressing her hands against her eyes.
"Do not say anything more to me," she said, and her voice sounded hopeless and dead. "Not now."
And then, very slowly, she turned and went out of the room.
The Archbishop told himself that he had done his duty. Personal aggrandizement, great opportunities of power and social position he had put away, he had done a true and holy thing. And so he sat down and wrote to the Prime Minister.