The silence in the room lasted. Her feeling for him was so much
deeper than all this--so centred, not in what his faith was to her
but in what HE was to her, that she did not trust herself to speak.
He was not on trial in these matters in the least: without his
knowing it, he had been on trial in many other ways for a long
time.

He misunderstood her silence, read wrongly her expression which was
obeying with some severity the need she felt to conceal what she
had no right to show.

"Ah, well! Ah, well!" he cried piteously, rising slowly.

When she saw his face a moment later across the room as he turned,
it was the face she had first seen in the dark street. It had
stopped her singing then; it drew an immediate response from her
now. She crossed over to him and took one of his hands in both of
hers. Her cheeks were flushed, her voice trembled.

"I am not your judge," she said, "and in all this there is only one
thing that is too sad, too awful, for me to accept. I am sorry you
should have been misled into believing that the Christian religion
is nothing more than one of the religions of the world, and Christ
merely one of its religious teachers. I wish with all my strength
you believed as you once believed, that the Bible is a direct
Revelation from God, making known to us, beyond all doubt, the
Resurrection of the dead, the Immortality of the Soul, in a better
world than this, and the presence with us of a Father who knows our
wants, pities our weakness, and answers our prayers. But I believe