This, then, was the stranger of the park whom she believed to have gone
his way after unknowingly leaving glorious words of destiny for her.
Instead of vanishing, he had reappeared, following up his discovery into
her very presence. She did not desire him to follow up his discovery.
She put out one hand and pressed her son back into the room and was
about to close the door.

"I should first have stated, of course," said the visitor, smiling
quietly as with awkward self-recovery, "that I am the choir-master of
the Cathedral of St. John the Divine."

Stillness followed, the stillness in which painful misunderstandings
dissolve. The scene slowly changed, as when on the dark stage of a
theater an invisible light is gradually turned, showing everything in
its actual relation to everything else. In truth a shaft as of celestial
light suddenly fell upon her doorway; a far-sent radiance rested on the
head of her son; in her ears began to sound old words spoken ages ago to
another mother on account of him she had borne. To her it was an
annunciation.

Her first act was to place her hand on the head of the lad and bend it
back until his eyes looked up into hers; his mother must be the first to
congratulate him and to catch from his eyes their flash of delight as he
realized all that this might mean: the fulfilment of life's dream for
him.

Then she threw open the door.

"Will you come in?"