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The Keeper of the Bees

hesitate over. I’m just telling you that your voice is young, and your face is young, and your body is strong, and in some way there can be healing managed for young hearts that are breaking, and I do believe that trouble shared is trouble at least half endured. Tell me.”

Jamie could almost feel the thinking process that was going on in the mind of the woman whom he was trying to shelter and to support.

“It’s a long story,” said the rich voice at last, “and it’s a story that’s got what the world calls shame in it. And the world is right in calling what there is in it shame, because I am ashamed. I couldn’t sit here in broad sunlight and let you shelter me, and look at me, and tell you. I could only tell you in such darkness and turmoil as this, and you can’t possibly do any good, but there is this about it: If you came and weathered the storm and resolved that you could go on with what you call an open wound in your breast, I’ll promise you that I’ll not go over the rock. I’ll promise you that I’ll find my way back to the friends I left; that I’ll go home; that I’ll take up my work; that I’ll do the best I can.”

“That’s fine,” said Jamie, “as far as it goes. But it doesn’t go far enough to do you any more good than the good of saving your soul alive, because we don’t get life at our own volition in this world, and we have no right to give it up until the God who gave it says we have lived it. What I am offering to do is to take the burden that’s crushing you, off your heart. Isn’t there a little bit of shelter in the arm across your shoulders? Doesn’t my voice sound