When she reached the foot of the hill she turned and looked back. Alexina was standing in one of the jagged window casements of the church. The bright warm sun was overhead in a cloudless sky. Its liquid careless rays flooded the ruin. Alexina's tall white figure, the soft blue of her hat forming a halo about her face, was bathed in its light; a radiant vision in that shattered town whose very stones cried out against the injustice of life.
Alexina, who was feeling like anything but a madonna in a stained glass window, waved a questing hand.
"The fortunate of earth!" thought Gora.
She set her lips grimly and walked across the valley with a steady stride. At least she could be one of the strong.