” “We’ll have, thank God! ten myriad days to tell each other things. She has married some one he could not approve of, and gone right away. The nun on the threshold was of middle age and heavily built, her back uneven from toil and her hands roughened. She has power over men’s fates in more ways than one. The sergeant had not seen it for he understood nothing of what she told him. She heard him come in; the light burned on. He was sitting back from the table now, with one arm over the back of his green chair and the other resting on the little table. Ruth's emotion was a primitive joy: she was essential in this man's life, and she would always be happy because he would always be needing her.
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