THE TWILIGHT OF THE SOULS
229
fair-haired man, just a little grey, a good sort to his wife, a good father to his children. . . . Lord, how good he was, reflected in the blind eyes of plodding life! . . . But there was nothing good about him and he was quite different from what he seemed. He had always been different from what he seemed. Oh, idiot people! Oh, blind, idiot life!
