"There is no God!" he almost hissed; "no God; not anywhere!"
She started.
"Not anywhere!"
He ground it out between his teeth, and she felt his hot breath on her
cheek.
"Waldo, you are mad," she said, drawing herself from him, instinctively.
He loosened his grasp and turned away from her also.
In truth, is it not life's way? We fight our little battles alone; you
yours, I mine. We must not help or find help.
When your life is most real, to me you are mad; when your agony is
blackest, I look at you and wonder. Friendship is good, a strong stick;
but when the hour comes to lean hard, it gives. In the day of their
bitterest need all souls are alone.
Lyndall stood by him in the dark, pityingly, wonderingly. As he walked to
the door, she came after him.
"Eat your supper; it will do you good," she said.
She rubbed her cheek against his shoulder and then ran away.
In the front room the little woolly Kaffer girl was washing Tant Sannie's
feet in a small tub, and Bonaparte, who sat on the wooden sofa, was pulling
off his shoes and stockings that his own feet might be washed also. There
were three candles burning in the room, and he and Tant Sannie sat close
together, with the lean Hottentot not far off; for when ghosts are about
much light is needed, there is great strength in numbers.
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