To the astonishment to her townspeople, Hester Prynne's beauty didn't diminish after being pilloried on the scaffold. On the contrary, she went through this ordeal with almost a serene deportment. Hester had never looked more elegant or more dignified before. It was the elaborate embroidery of the scarlet letter that made her radiant with sublime beauty. Though exquisite painfulness could still be sensed in her haughty smile, the woman seemed to get great inner strength from a mysterious source.
Outlawed from the Puritan society, Hester Prynne and her daughter moved to the far east of Boston, where their shabby little house stood solitarily near the bay. Unlike usual, Hester appeared extremely excited today. She combed her glossy hair over and over again and put on a nice gown. She looked at herself in the mirror; passion shone from her eyes. Little Pearl was still asleep, but Hester couldn't help humming to her.
Finally there he came - the man she'd been waiting for - the Reverend Arthur Dimmesdale.
"Arthur, takest me out of this place! Please, Arthur! Wilt thou? " Hester's cheeks glowed with excitement. "Hester, we...I...I am powerless to. Lost as my soul is, I have no other thought than to drag on my earthly existence in the sphere where Providence hath placed me." the minister murmured. "No," she cried hoarsely, "Thou art not sinful! Neither am I! What we did had a consecration of its own. We felt it so! We said so to each other. Hast thou forgotten it?" "No, I have not forgotten and will not forget it. But we have sinned against our Lord. Even if we escaped from people's contempt, how could we ever escape from our final judgment?" The young pastor's voice sounded tremulously sweet, deep, rich and broken. At the same...