"
"Ah, beloved!" whispered Jane, "not 'distant.' If you want her, and
call her, it will be to the closest closeness love can devise. No
more distance between you and me."
And then, in the curious way in which inspired words will sometimes
occur to the mind quite apart from their inspired context, and
bearing a totally different meaning from that which they primarily
bear, these words came to Jane: "For He is our peace, Who hath made
both one, and hath broken down the middle wall of partition between
us . . . that He might reconcile both . . . by the cross." "Ah, dear
Christ!" she whispered. "If Thy cross could do this for Jew and
Gentile, may not my boy's heavy cross, so bravely borne, do it for
him and for me? So shall we come at last, indeed, to 'kiss the
cross.'"
The breakfast gong boomed through the house. Simpson loved gongs. He
considered them "Haristocratic." He always gave full measure.
Nurse Rosemary went down to breakfast.
Garth came in, through the French window, humming "The thousand
beauties that I know so well.
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