She had a slender, still youthful figure, an oval, lovely, still young face.

Now there was a smile upon her lips, and in her eyes a light deep, touching, maternal.
"Go as you will, hunt him as you will, do what you will! And he, too--Ian! Ian and his sins.

Grapes in the wine-press--wheat beneath the flail--ore in the ardent fire, and over all the clouds of wrath! Suffering and making to suffer--sinning and making to sin....

And yet will the dawn come, and yet will you be reconciled!" "Not while memory holds!" "Ah, there is so much to remember! Ian has so much and you have so much....

When the great memory comes you will see.