"'You will be turned out of church for this,' I said.
"She stood by the window, her finger tracing the rain-drops on the pane, for it was a rainy night. She said,—
"'They won't understand. God knows.'
"So I wrote on a bit, and then I said,—for I felt sorry for the girl, though she was doing it for Grey,—I said,—
'"Lizzy, I'll be plain with you. There never was but one human being loved you, perhaps. When he was dying, he said, "Tell my wife to be true and pure." There is a bare possibility that you can be both as an opera-singer, but he never would believe it. If you met him in heaven, he would turn his back on you, if you should do this thing.'
"I could not see her face,—her back was towards me,—but the hand on the window-pane lay there for a long while motionless, the blood settling blue about the nails. I did not speak to her. There are some women with whom a physician, if he knows his business, will never meddle when they grow nervous; they come terribly close to God and the Devil then, I think. I tell you, Mrs. Sheppard, now and then one of your sex has the vitality and pain and affection of a thousand souls in one. I hate such women," vehemently.
"Men like you always do," quietly. "But I am not one of them."
"No, nor Grey, thank God! Whoever contrived that allegory of Eve and the apple, though, did it well. If the Devil came to Lizzy Gurney, he would offer no meaner temptation than 'Ye shall be as gods, knowing good and evil.'"
"'Allegory'—eh? You forget your story, I think, Doctor Blecker,"—with a frown.
The Doctor stopped to help her to jelly, with a serious face, and then went on. "She turned round at last. I did not look up at her, only said,—