Suddenly she turned, and looked up in his face.
“If I had been killed, there’d have been an end of me to all intents and purposes. I don’t care for anything that could go on. Oh, I don’t mean anything about opinions; but there couldn’t be anything afterwards that’s real to me. There couldn’t be anything that I want.”
“You have found that out,” said Guy.
“I never thought about God at all,” she said abruptly. “He never came into my head!”
“Well, He has come now,” said Guy.
She recognised his tone of conviction. Thoughts, speculations, flashed into her mind, at last, not as words, but as facts.
“Well,” she cried again, “if I didn’t believe in Him, I’d have stood to it, and not been afraid. But I do—I always have—and yet I just forgot Him—then.”
“But not now,” said Guy. “I think I ought to take you back,” he added; “you ought to rest, and recover yourself.”
“I’ll go back,” she said, standing up. “But I’m quite well.”
She walked on slowly beside him; but presently broke out again.