Lester began to be startled. "Here? Where?"
"Wherever it is we are. I don't quite know where that is. Do you? I'm speaking," he continued, "in the old terms of place in the sense of locality, because I don't know what else to do; but locality, of course, is gone. We're in the universal, which makes it difficult for us, after being used to so many limitations, to understand ourselves."
Lester was aware of fear, awe, and irritation all struggling in him together.
"You may be in the universal, as you call it; but—but I've come through."
"We've both come through. The marvel is that we've done it so easily. It's as I expected—only more so."
"As you expected—in what way?"
"Every way; all my life. When your barrage fire began I prayed—"
"Do you fellows pray?" Lester asked, in astonishment.
"Oh, some of us—what we used to call prayer—the sort of thing my poor wife and children are doing now—begging—pleading that this or that shall be done—instead of resting in strength, as you and I are."
"I'm not—I'm not—resting in strength."