'No,' said Rollo gravely. 'I started a general proposition.'
'Opportunity is only the sand-paper,' said Hazel in her quick way.
'Of no earthly use without a match.'
Rollo's eye danced; nevertheless he answered as demurely as possible'What do you consider a match?'
'Hidden fire. The complement of the opportunity,waiting for it,ready for it. I suppose I meant that' she said, retreating into herself again.
'I suppose you did,' said Rollo smiling, 'for it is a sharp truth. But Hazel, there is also hidden fire in the good news we carry; and if we cannot make it catch, perhaps God will. Suppose you have nothing to give but the naked truth in your naked handwon't you take it to the people whose lives it may light up for ever?'
She did not answer him, thinking of the timenot now long pastwhen her own life had been like midnight. Hazel pushed away her plate, and folding her hands in her lap, sat looking down at them, or at her ring, or possibly seeing neither.
'Olaf,' said Gyda suddenly coming back from the outer door to which she had been summoned, 'somebody is a wanting you down yonder. There's always somebody wanting him now, my lady.'
'Who is it, this time?'
'Hans Heinrichhe has got hurt in some o' the wheels and things.'
'He is not one of my hands.'