I must try and do something for you.' 'Never mind me,' said Hyacinth; 'I shall be all right.

But I can't bear to think of you and Mrs.Quinn.Poverty like that in Dublin! Have you thought what it means?
A shabby little house in a crowded street, off at the back of somewhere; dirt and stuffiness and vulgarity all around you.
She can't be expected to stand it--or you either.' 'My dear boy,' said Mr.Quinn, 'my wife and I have been trying all our lives to be Christians.

Shall we receive good at the Lord's hand and not evil also?
However it may be with me, I know that she will not fail in the trial.' His face lit up as he spoke, and the smile on it was no longer forced, but clear and brave.

Hyacinth knew that he was once again in the presence of that mysterious power which enables men and women to meet and conquer loss and pain, against which every kind of misfortune beats in vain.

His eyes filled with tears as he took Mr.Quinn's hand and bade him good-night..