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vladislav sogan
IF ANY MAN SIN
IF ANY MAN SIN
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He rose abruptly to his feet and paced rapidly up and down the room. He knew what had brought upon him this mood. Why had he been so weak as to enter that church? he asked himself. And what was she doing there? He could not separate the two. The Church and Beryl were always connected. He recalled the last time he had seen her in his old parish. It was the evening of the day he had said good-bye to his parents. He wished to see her, but upon approaching her home his courage had failed him. How could he look into her face with the great stain upon him? Her large lustrous eyes would have pierced his very soul. She believed him to be true, noble, and upright. But how little was she aware as she sat at the piano that night, practising the Christmas music, that Rutland, to whom she had given her heart and hand, was watching her longingly through the window. He had stood there until she ceased her playing. Then she had come to the window and looked out upon the world of snow and ice. He remembered how he had shrunk back fearful lest she should see him. For some time did she stand there, and Rutland knew that of him she was thinking. He had waited until the house was in darkness, and then crept back to his own lodging place.
How every incident of that night was burnt upon his brain! He had left the parish like a coward, and when several days later the startling news of his fall and deposition reached Glendale he was swallowed up in the great world of seething humanity. He knew nothing of the grief and agony of his parents, nor the overwhelming blow which for a time almost prostrated Beryl Heathcote. But he read the accounts of his degradation in the papers, and heard men by his side discuss the affair in a light careless manner. How he had recoiled as he listened to their rough remarks, and their apparent delight that another clergyman had gone astray. In a few weeks the story of wrong was forgotten, save by those whose hearts had been most sorely stricken.
• Table of contents with working links to chapters is included
• The book has been corrected for spelling and grammatical errors
• New and improved version
•
He rose abruptly to his feet and paced rapidly up and down the room. He knew what had brought upon him this mood. Why had he been so weak as to enter that church? he asked himself. And what was she doing there? He could not separate the two. The Church and Beryl were always connected. He recalled the last time he had seen her in his old parish. It was the evening of the day he had said good-bye to his parents. He wished to see her, but upon approaching her home his courage had failed him. How could he look into her face with the great stain upon him? Her large lustrous eyes would have pierced his very soul. She believed him to be true, noble, and upright. But how little was she aware as she sat at the piano that night, practising the Christmas music, that Rutland, to whom she had given her heart and hand, was watching her longingly through the window. He had stood there until she ceased her playing. Then she had come to the window and looked out upon the world of snow and ice. He remembered how he had shrunk back fearful lest she should see him. For some time did she stand there, and Rutland knew that of him she was thinking. He had waited until the house was in darkness, and then crept back to his own lodging place.
How every incident of that night was burnt upon his brain! He had left the parish like a coward, and when several days later the startling news of his fall and deposition reached Glendale he was swallowed up in the great world of seething humanity. He knew nothing of the grief and agony of his parents, nor the overwhelming blow which for a time almost prostrated Beryl Heathcote. But he read the accounts of his degradation in the papers, and heard men by his side discuss the affair in a light careless manner. How he had recoiled as he listened to their rough remarks, and their apparent delight that another clergyman had gone astray. In a few weeks the story of wrong was forgotten, save by those whose hearts had been most sorely stricken.
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