"I don't know what I think," Wood answered sulkily; and he bent his eyes upon the water, as if he wished to avert his attention forcibly from the scene. People were not slaves to their gods as they are now, oppressed and unhappy, chained to their mortality and suffering so that they may one day enter an imaginary Heaven. Cowering in a corner upon a heap of straw sat his unfortunate mother, the complete wreck of what she had been. But calmer thoughts quickly succeeded. If you'd read your husband's dying speech, you'd know that he laid his death at Jonathan's door,—and with reason too, as I can testify. He stood back and held her shoulders. I thought that you were he. He was all alone, too. My opportunities have been immense, and my failure utter.
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