"No—no! As a kind, tender, all-wise father, Naomi—as you would have loved your little child if it had lived."
Naomi cowered and moaned.
"Oh, I wish I could believe that. I wouldn't be frightened if I could believe that. Make me believe it. Surely you can make me believe that there's love and forgiveness in God if you believe it yourself."
"Jesus Christ forgave and loved the Magdalen, Naomi."
"Jesus Christ? Oh, I ain't afraid of Him. Yes, He could understand and forgive. He was half human. I tell you it's God I'm skeered of."
"They are one and the same," said Mr. Leonard helplessly. He knew he could not make Naomi realize it. This anguished death-bed was no place for a theological exposition on the mysteries of the Trinity.
"Christ died for you, Naomi. He bore your sins in His own body on the cross."
"We bear our own sins," said Naomi fiercely. "I've borne mine all my life—and I'll bear them for all eternity. I can't believe anything else. I can't believe God can forgive me. I've ruined people body and soul—I've broken hearts and poisoned homes—I'm worse than a murderess.
