"This day's evil is greater," said he, "than all the good put together."
"How is that?" said she.
"If I had been content to do my business that day with that shilling and the two others that I had together with it," said he, "I should never have thought of Short Mary nor she of me. I should never have known the sorrow of this day. My heart would not have become like a stone, nor my head like a cloud of mist, nor my mind like a smith's forge-fire, as they are now. My life would not be limited to thirteen years, and the half of that same gone already."
"Look, Shiana!" said she, and she opened her other hand and showed him, in the middle of her palm, a little ball of glass. And that little ball was so brilliant that you could not look straight at it, or it would blind you. And there were little particles of light going from it all round, like the rays out of the sun. There was a little golden band round it, with a golden chain hanging from the band.
"What is that?" said Shiana, as he tried to look at the ball, while the strength of the light blinded his eyes.
"It is yours," said she.
"What should make it mine?" said he.
"That is the deed you did this morning," said she; "the noblest deed that has been done in Ireland for a long time."
"Why, what is this noble deed that I have done this morning?" said he.
"It is," said she, "that you put the best woman in Ireland away from your heart for the Saviour's sake."
"How could I help it?" said he. "How could I do such a wrong to such a woman?"
