You could not look at her, and think that the poor thing was willing to endure anything, capable of enduring anything.
The Bishop looked at her, through her.
"Or would you rather go home and wait in misery a little longer, and keep him in his cell a little longer: another week—another month—another year! You know best how much longer you can wait."
Silence.
"And Michael can wait, too."
"Michael must come out," said Fay, with a sob. "He was always good to me."
"Thank God," said the Bishop, and he rose abruptly and went to the window.
Magdalen and Fay did not move. They leaned a little closer together. Fay's timid eyes sought her sister's like those of a child which has repeated its lesson, and looks to its teacher to see if it has done well.
Magdalen kissed her on the eyes.
"I have said everything, haven't I?"