The stone from this David's sling falls into the ocean and is lost beneath the surface." His voice had taken on a somewhat sombre tone, his eyes looked away into the distance; yet he smiled too, and a hand upon his knee suddenly closed in sympathy with an inward determination.
A light of understanding came into her face.

They had been keeping things upon the surface, and, while it lasted, he seemed a lesser man than she had thought him these past years.

But now--now there was the old unschooled simplicity, the unique and lonely personality, the homely soul and body bending to one root-idea, losing themselves in a wave of duty.

Again he was to her, once more, the dreamer, the worker, the conqueror--the conqueror of her own imagination.

She had in herself the soul of altruism, the heart of the crusader.