thought I didn't care what came of it--when over by the great
gate-post I saw a man crouching--Moriway.

I sat down again and pulled the book farther toward the light.

We didn't learn much poetry at the Cruelty, did we, Mag? But I
know some now, just the same. When I began to read I heard only
one word--Moriway--Moriway--Moriway. But I must have--forgotten
him after a time, and the dark garden with the light on only one
spot, and the roses smelling, and Latimer lying perfectly still,
his face turned toward me, for I was reading--listen, I bet I can
remember that part of it if I say it slow--


Oh, Thou, who Man of baser Earth didst make,
And ev'n with Paradise devise the Snake:
For all the sin wherewith the Face of Man
Is blacken'd--Man's forgiveness give--and take!


--when all at once Mr. Latimer put his hand on the book. I looked
up with a start. The shadow by the gate was gone.


Yon rising Moon that looks for us again---
How oft hereafter will she wax and wane;
How oft hereafter rising look for us
Through this same Garden--and for ONE in vain!