Fear shrank to a shadow.
Suddenly the fire drew itself together with a little encouraging sound.
Fay started slightly, looked at it, and began to speak rapidly in a low clear voice.
As Magdalen listened she prayed with intensity that Fay might really tell the Bishop the whole story, as she had told it to herself, that stormy night in March, half a life-time ago.
The little voice went on and on.

It faltered, sank, and then struggled up again.

One point after another was reached in safety, was passed.
Nothing that Fay had already admitted was left out.

Gradually, as Magdalen listened, a faint shame laid hold of her.

Her whole life had for the time centred in one passionate overwhelming desire that Fay should make to the Bishop as full a confession as she had made to herself.