"I suppose so," she admitted.
"Yes," she thrust in. "Then it would be all right. I could be sure she was asleep—dead—like last year's leaves——"
"But why should God complicate matters?"
"Well—heaven follows—and hell—don't they? Their worm dieth not—and all the rest."
"Oh, I follow."
"Miss Marsham—the head mistress, you know—of course she's very old—but she believes—terribly. It's an awfully religious school. It scares some of the children. I used to laugh, but now, since Louise died, it scares me, though I am grown up. I've no convictions—and she is certain—and then I get these nightmares. I hear her calling—for water."
The flat matter-of-fact tone alarmed him more than emotion would have done.
"Water?"
"For I am tormented in this flame. I hear her every night—wailing." Her eyes strained after something that he could not see.