He leaned towards her till his face was close to her own. “Something must be done,” he said. “I'm ready for anything. I can't bear it any longer. Last night the devil rose in me and conquered me. I was ready to kill him.”
“And after all those beautiful things”—Mrs. Porter smiled calmly—“that you said about him in your sermon.”
“The feeling didn't last long,” Hillhouse said, gloomily. “It swept through me like a storm and left me on my knees praying God to spare her. Did she make any comment on my sermon?”
“No, but I saw it failed to affect her as we wanted it to. I have kept a close watch on her. At times she's had the appearance of a woman giving up all hope, and then again a rebellious look would come in her face, and she'd move about with a quick step, her head up and a defiant expression, as if she was telling herself that she had a right to her happiness, and would have it at any cost.”
“Ah, I guess she loves him,” Hillhouse sighed; “and she is fascinated by his hellish proposal and the thought that she is sacrificing something for his sake. I wish I could abuse him, but I can't. I can't blame him for trying to get her; it is no more than any man would do, any man who knows what she is.”
“I want to ask you one thing, Brother Hillhouse”—Mrs. Porter was looking at a row of cottages across the square—“and I ask it as a member of your church and a woman that don't want to commit unpardonable sin. So far, I've tried to obey the commandments to the letter. I want to know if I'd ever be forgiven if I was to descend to downright deception—lying with my tongue and lying in my actions—that is, I mean, if, by so doing, I could save my child from this thing?”
Hillhouse avoided her piercing eyes; his own shifted under lowering brows.
“If you could actually save her?” he said.
“Yes, if I could make her give him up—send him off?”
“I'll answer you this way,” Hillhouse replied.