‘deed she was right. All wandering and lost, Stephen. Wounded too, and bruised.’

He slowly moved to a chair and sat down, drooping his head before her.

‘I came to do what little I could, Stephen; first, for that she worked with me when we were girls both, and for that you courted her and married her when I was her friend — ’

He laid his furrowed forehead on his hand, with a low groan.

‘And next, for that I know your heart, and am right sure and certain that ’tis far too merciful to let her die, or even so much as suffer, for want of aid. Thou knowest who said, “Let him who is without sin among you cast the first stone at her!” There have been plenty to do that. Thou art not the man to cast the last stone, Stephen, when she is brought so low.’