It was very bitter: the struggle was sharp and long: and duty and possibility, and wrong and right, fought each other and fired upon their own men.
She could not take back her love: that was impossible. She might die, but that she could not do. And now with a certain gleam of comfort, Hazel remembered that Dane had not withdrawn his. How had he managed then? After all, it did not touch the question much,he was a man, dependent of no one: she was a girl, with nothing in the world but him. Yet she wanted more. A strength above his, a love even more sure: "the things which cannot be shaken."
So, slowly, she went back over the verses, laying hold still of but that one thing in her way:
"He shall call upon me, and I will answer him."
Yes, it must be meant for her. And Hazel tried to shut her eyes to the character that went with the promise. People like that, she argued, would need nothing,it must be for her. But oh she had called so very often!Far back in the psalm, that is, close at the beginning, another word flamed up before her in a sudden illumination: a word she had read and reread, but now it stopped her short. Another three words, that is:
"I will say."
Something that seemed to head the long list of blessings, something for her. But it was something for her to do. What, then?
"I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge and my fortress: my God; in him will I trust."
"I will say."But close upon that followed "Surely."
Could she say it? Was she ready for that absolute choice? The words came to her as she had heard Dr. Maryland read them: