Secrecy means evasion, and evasion means a problem to the moral mind.

To the primitive mind, with its direct yes and no, there is danger of it becoming a tragical problem ere it is realised that truth is various and diverse.

Perhaps even with that Mary who hid the matter in her heart--the exquisite tragedy and glory of Christendom--there was a delicate feeling of guilt, the guilt of the hidden though lofty and beautiful thing.
If secrecy was guilt, then Charley and Rosalie were bound together by a bond as strong as death: Rosalie held the key to a series of fateful days and doings.
In ordinary course, they might have known each other for five years and not have come to this sensitive and delicate association.

With one great plunge she had sprung into the river of understanding.

In the moment that she had thrust her scarf into his scorched breast, in that little upper room, the work of years had been done.
As long as he lived, that mark must remain on M'sieu's breast--the red, smooth scar of a cross! She had seen the sort of shining scar a bad burn makes, and at thought of it she flushed, trembled, and turned her head away, as though some one were watching her.