They had passed unregarded when they were spoken, but lingered unthought of in some recess of his memory.

Now they came on him full of meaning, insistent for an answer.
'You have chosen,' said the Canon.
He had chosen.

Could he be sure that he had chosen right, that he knew the good side from the bad?
'You have chosen, and I have no more to say.

Only, before it becomes impossible for you and me to kneel together, I ask you to let me pray with you once more.

You can do this because you still believe He hears us, although you have decided to walk no more with Him.' They knelt together, and Hyacinth, numbly indifferent, felt his hand grasped and held.
'O Christ,' said Canon Beecher, 'this child of Thine has chosen to live by hatred rather than by love.