And again she surprised him as she had the night before in implicit acceptance of her new faith, something as tangible as divine. She spoke in a perfect simplicity.
"I ain't alone," she said.
Tenney had turned his head, to listen.
"We ain't alone, Isr'el, be we?" she challenged breathlessly.
"I dunno what you're talkin' about," said Tenney uneasily, and she laughed.
It was, Raven wonderingly thought, a light-hearted laugh, as if she had no longer anything to bear.
"Why," said she, "same as I told you. We ain't alone a minute o' the time, if we don't feel to be. He's with us, the Lord Jesus Christ."
The telephone bell rang and she went off to answer it. Tenney, as if with a hopeful conviction that another man would understand, turned his eyes upon Raven.
"What's anybody want to talk like that for?" he questioned irrepressibly.
"It's the way you talk yourself," said Raven. "That's precisely what you said last night."