But giving up religion was a hard thing to Deborah. It left life so grey and lifeless.
There were no more beautiful dreams about the angels, and no more trust in God’s love and mercy—and without these religion was a blank.
Gradually, however, every bit of her spare time became filled by the people from that other world.
It was not left till night to visit them—she was with them nearly all the day.
At prayer time especially they called all attention to themselves and by degrees she forgot to feel the sharp stinging pain whenever she knelt down beside the bed.
“We are acting the part of God in turn,” observed Genius to Plucritus.
“Perhaps so,” said he. “But this is a species of idolatry.”
“At any rate I am not playing the part of a deceiver. I am what I appear to be.”
“Not you. Half your time you spend in masquerading as the man in yon picture.”
“Well, and don’t I tell you that he is my brother—my twin brother?”