from the
child he loves. And because my life was in danger you came and saw
him and spoke to him again." For the thing was even greater than she
imagined. Nobody but himself would ever see round it now. And to see
round it he was standing at an immense distance. He could even be glad
that she had once held the beloved in her arms.

"Don't talk of 'faults.' You're my friend for ever, Mr. Herriton, I
think. Only don't be charitable and shift or take the blame. Get over
supposing I'm refined. That's what puzzles you. Get over that."

As he spoke she seemed to be transfigured, and to have indeed no part
with refinement or unrefinement any longer. Out of this wreck there was
revealed to him something indestructible--something which she, who had
given it, could never take away.

"I say again, don't be charitable. If he had asked me, I might have
given myself body and soul. That would have been the end of my rescue
party. But all through he took me for a superior being--a goddess. I
who was worshipping every inch of him, and every word he spoke. And that
saved me."

Philip's eyes were fixed on the Campanile of Airolo. But he saw instead
the fair myth of Endymion. This woman was a goddess to the end. For
her no love could be degrading: she stood outside all degradation. This
episode, which she thought so sordid, and which was so tragic for him,
remained supremely beautiful. To such a height was he lifted, that
without regret he could now have told her that he was her worshipper
too. But what was the use of telling her? For all the wonderful things
had happened.

"Thank you," was all that he permitted himself. "Thank you for
everything."

She looked at him with great friendliness, for he had made her life
endurable. At that moment the train entered the San Gothard tunnel. They
hurried back to the carriage to close the windows lest the smuts should
get into Harriet's eyes.

End of Project Gutenberg's Where Angels Fear to Tread, by E. M. Forster

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