Ruxton's eyes came back to the woman's face.
"Will you tell me?"
His request was made without a shadow of excitement. That was his way when confronted with a crisis. Now he understood why she had worn herself to weariness for three hours on her feet. But for all the interest of the moment his mind was still questioning—Who?
"The telling would be worthless. It would convey simply—words. There is better than telling."
"But the world is at peace now," Ruxton suggested.
"It was at peace before, when—the telling came from all ends of the world."
"And no one listened."
"Those who could have helped refused to hear. And those who heard were powerless."
"So now you come——?"
"To one who, eschewing all that his wealth and position could give him of life's leisure and delight, has dedicated his whole future to the land I—have learned to love."