“I know now,” he concluded, “that it could only add misery to misery. Nothing that a man or a woman alone can do can restore lost honour and self-reverence. No fasting or penance or sacrifice is of any use.”
Yvonne drew her face away from him, so as to see him better. Pain was in her eyes. Her lips quivered.
“Then—Stephen—dear—is it still the same with you about the prison—the old horror and shame?”
“My dearest,” he said tenderly, “I said man alone was powerless. It is the touch of your lips that has wiped away all stain for ever.”
They looked deep into each other’s eyes for a long, speechless moment And then Yvonne, like a foolish woman, fell a-sobbing on his knees.
“Oh, thank God, my dear, thank God!” she said.