“Because,” she said in a strained voice, making a hurt gesture, “it is so far from me.”
He did not know what to say, of course, and lifting one thin leg in its white trousers he placed it carefully over the other.
She was sitting opposite him, her head turned a little to one side, not looking at anything. “You see,” she said presently, “I want religion to become out of the reach of the few.”
“Become’s a queer word,” he said.
“It is the only word,” she answered, and there was a slight irritation in her voice, “because it is so irrevocably for the many.”
“Yes,” he said mechanically, and reached up to his beard, leaving his hand there under a few strands of hair.
“You see,” she went on simply, “I can come to the point. For me, everything is a lie—I am not telling this to you because I need your help, I shall never need help,” she said, turning her eyes on his, “understand that from the beginning——”
“Beginning,” he said in a loud voice suddenly.
“From the beginning,” she repeated calmly, “right from the very start, not help but hindrance, I need enough hindrance, a total obstacle, otherwise I cannot accomplish it.”
“Accomplish what, madame?” he asked and took his hand from under his beard.