ersisted, "in seeking to observe the Law, there is not a jot or
tittle in it that can be rejected."

With an acquiescence that was both vague and melancholy, Jesus looked the
Pharisee in the face.

"Seek those things that are great, and little things will be added unto
you----"

He would have said more, perhaps, but a woman who had entered from the
recess approached circuitously, and kneeling beside him let a tear, long
as a pearl, fall upon his unsandalled feet.

Judas' heart bounded; he glared at her, his eyes dilating like a leopard
preparing to spring. At once he was back in the circus, gazing into the
perils and the splendors of a woman's face, telling himself with
reiterated insistence that to hold her to him would be the birthday of his
life; and here, within reach of his hand, was she whom in the din of the
chariots he had recognized as the one woman in all the world, and who for
one moment the day before had lain unconscious in his arms.

Reulah sat motionless, his mouth agape, a finger extended. "The paramour
of Pandera," he stammered at last; and lowering his eyes, he looked at her
covetously from beneath the lids.

Simon, too, sat motionless. There was rage in his expression, hate
even--that hatred which the beautiful excites in the base. Time and again
he had seen her; she was a byword with him; from the height of her
residence she looked down on his mean gray walls; her luxury had been an
insult to his abstinence; and with that zest which a small nature takes in
the humiliation of its superior, he determined, in spite of her manifest
abjection, to humiliate her still more.

"If this man," he confided to his neighbor, "has in him anything of that
which goes to the making of a prophet, he will divine what manner of woman
she is. If he does not, I will denounce them both." And nourishing his
hate he waited yet a while.

The Master seemed depressed. The great secret which in all the world he
alone possessed may have weighed with him. But he turned to Mary and
looked at her. As he looked she bent yet lower. The marvel of her hair was
unconfined; it fell about her in tangling streams of gold and flame, while
on his feet there fell from her tears such as no woman ever shed before.
In the era of primitive hospitality the daughters of kings had not
disdained to unlatch the sandals of their fathers' guests; but now, at the
feet of Mercy, for the first time Repentance knelt. And still the tears
continued, un