"He loves me in his way, but I do not love him.

That of itself is a great sin.

It seems to me as though I saw but one half of life, and saw it from the window of a prison; and yet I am not imprisoned.

I would that I were, for I should never have seen another man.

I should never have heard his voice, nor seen his face, nor--nor loved him, as I do love him," she sobbed.
"Hush, my daughter," said the old monk, very gently.