He began to pray, still sitting as he prayed.
"Oh God!" he prayed. "Thou who has shown thyself to me, let me never forget thee again. Save me from forgetfulness. And show thyself to those I love; show thyself to all mankind. Use me, O God, use me; but keep my soul alive. Save me from the presumption of the trusted servant; save me from the vanity of authority....
"And let thy light shine upon all those who are so dear to me.... Save them from me. Take their dear loyalty...."
He paused. A flushed, childishly miserable face that stared indignantly through glittering tears, rose before his eyes. He forgot that he had been addressing God.
"How can I help you, you silly thing?" he said. "I would give my own soul to know that God had given his peace to you. I could not do as you wished. And I have hurt you!... You hurt yourself.... But all the time you would have hampered me and tempted me—and wasted yourself. It was impossible.... And yet you are so fine!"
He was struck by another aspect.
"Ella was happy—partly because Lady Sunderbund was hurt and left desolated...."
"Both of them are still living upon nothings. Living for nothings. A phantom way of living...."
He stared blankly at the humming blue gas jets amidst the incandescent asbestos for a space.
