Father Benwell took a chair by Romayne's side. "It has been my hard duty to grieve and humiliate you," he said. "Do you bear me no ill will?" He held out his hand. Romayne took it -- as an act of justice, if not as an act of gratitude. "Can I be of any use in advising you?" Father Benwell asked. "Who can advise a man in my position?" Romayne bitterly rejoined. "I can at least suggest that you should take time to think over your position." "Time? take time? You talk as if my situation was endurable." "Everything is endurable, Romayne " "It may be so to you, Father Benwell. Did you part with your humanity when you put on the black robe of the priest?" "I parted, my son, with those weaknesses of our humanity on which women practice. You talk of your position. I will put it before you at its worst."
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