im, working on a latent poetry
and spirituality in her, somehow bringing her into nearer touch with her
lost Playmates than she had been in the long years that had passed; she,
in turn, had made his unrationalised brain reel; had caught him up into
a higher air, on no wings of his own; had added another lover to her
company of lovers--and the first impostor she had ever had. She who
had known only honest men as friends, in one blind moment lost her
perspicuous sense; her instinct seemed asleep. She believed in the man
and in his healing. Was there anything more than that?

The day of the great test came, hot, brilliant, vivid. The air was of
a delicate sharpness, and, as it came toward evening, the glamour of an
August when the reapers reap was upon Jansen; and its people gathered
round the house of Mary Jewell to await the miracle of faith. Apart
from the emotional many who sang hymns and spiritual songs were a few
determined men, bent on doing justice to Jansen though the heavens
might fall. Whether or no Laura Sloly was in love with the Faith
Healer, Jansen must look to its own honour--and hers. In any case, this
peripatetic saint at Sloly's Ranch--the idea was intolerable; women must
be saved in spite of themselves.

Laura was now in the house by the side of the bedridden Mary Jewell,
waiting, confident, smiling, as she held the wasted hand on the
coverlet. With her was a minister of the Baptist persuasion, who
was swimming with the tide, and who approved of the Faith Healer's
immersions in the hot Healing Springs; also a medical student who had
pretended belief in Ingles, and two women weeping with unnecessary
remorse for human failings of no dire kind. The windows were open, and
those outside could see. Presently, in a lull of the singing, there was
a stir in the crowd, and then, sudden loud greetings:

"My, if it ain't Tim Denton! Jerusalem! You back, Tim!"

These and other phrases caught the ear of Laura Sloly in the sick-room.
A strange look flashed across her face, and the depth of her eyes was
troubled for a moment, as to the face of the old comes a tremor at the
note of some long-forgotten song. Then she steadied herself and waited,
catching bits of the loud talk which still floated towards her from
without.

"What's up? Some one getting married--or a legacy, or a saw-off? Why,
what a lot of Sunday-go-to-meeting folks to be sure!" Tim laughed
loudly.

After which the quick tongue of Nicolle Terasse: "