Bud sat gazing at the outward sign of the passionate fires he had
always known to lie smouldering in the depths of this man's soul. Nan
stood paralyzed before such violence. Both knew that hell was raging
under the storm of emotion. Both knew that the wounds inflicted upon
this man's strong heart were well-nigh mortal.
The whole story was told, broken, disjointed. For the first time Nan
learned the result of the search for an erring twin brother, and her
horror was unbounded. A heart full of tenderness bled for the man
whose sufferings she was witnessing. The story of Elvine's own actions
filled her with revolting, yet with pity. It was not in her to condemn
easily. She felt that such acts were beyond her powers of judgment.
The man's grief, his bitter, passionate resentment smote her beyond any
sufferings she had ever known herself. Elvine absorbed all the anger
she could bestow, but even so it was infinitesimal beside the harvest
of grief which the sight of this man's suffering yielded her. That was
the paramount emotion of the moment with her.
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