“You know, you frightened me—last night,” he went on, lying on his back now and looking at the ceiling. “I almost became something—something.”
There was a long silence.
“Shall the beasts of the field and the birds of the air forsake thee?” he said gloomily, then brightly. “Shall any man forsake thee?”
Katrina Silverstaff remained as she was, but under her cheek something quivered.
The dawn was very near and the street lamps had gone out; a milk cart rattled across the square, and passed up a side street.
“One out of many, or only one?”
He put his cigarette out, he was beginning to breathe with difficulty, he was beginning to shiver.
“Well——”
He turned over, got up, stood on the floor.
“Is there nothing I can say?” he began, and went a little away and put his things on.