Purchase of this book includes free trial access to www.million-books.com where you can read more than a million books for free. This is an OCR edition with typos. Excerpt from book: three — the fateful three that had been measured for each tomb and temple in its own land and time. A knock, regretful but positive, was heard, and the door opening into the hall was quietly pushed open. A glow lit up the student's face though he did not stop writing; and his voice, while it gave a welcome, unconsciously expressed regret at being disturbed: "Come in." "I am in!" He lifted his heavy figure with instant courtesy — rather obsolete now — and bowing to one side, sat down again. "So I see," he said, dipping his pen into his ink. "Since you did not turn around, you would better have said ' So I hear.' It is three o'clock." "So I hear." "You said you would be ready." "I am ready." "You said you would be done." " I am done — nearly done." "But when entirely?" " By to-morrow — to-morrow afternoon before dark. I have reached the end, but now it is hard to stop, hard to let go." His tone gave first place, primary consideration, to his work. The silence in the room suddenly became charged. When the voice was heard again, there was constraint in it: "There is something to be done this afternoon before dark, something I have a share in. Having a share, I am interested. Being interested, I am prompt. Being prompt, I am here." He waved his hand over the written sheets before him — those cold Alps of learning; and asked reproachfully: "Are you not interested in all this, O you of little faith?" "How can I say, O me of little knowledge!" As the words impulsively escaped, he heard a quick movement behind him. He widened out his heavy arms upon his manuscript and looked back over his shoulder at her and laughed. And still smiling and holding his pen between his fingers, he turned and faced her. She had advanced into the middle o...