The light was poor, so that she saw their gleaming faces dimly and indistinctly. He sat on the bed, throwing aside his hat. Many things were only words, sounds; she could not construct these words and sounds into objects; or, if she did, invariably missed the mark. At length, I shall ascertain my name. Why? He could preach the Word and deny Love!—tame the savage heart, succour broken white men!—pray with his face strained with religious fervour! The idea made her dizzy because it was so inexplicable. I have come to you for sympathy, perhaps for help.
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