The Rev. Needham inwardly fidgeted. He felt he ought to be in the forefront of the discussion, defending his cloth. But suddenly he seemed, within, sadly and impotently, to have nothing to say. There were times when he felt he didn't possess a single honest prejudice any more, or hold one single irrefragable opinion. What a fortunate thing for the soul is its kind bulwark of flesh!
Anna's suggestion at length stirred Miss Whitcom, however. "Oh, no," she said quietly, "they don't."
"Still," O'Donnell objected, "you told me the Queen was incorrigibly modern, and you said she adored the movies."
"Oh, we're modern," replied Marjory with an ungodly smirk. "Yes, we're modern enough in Tahulamaji. I may say we're quite in the van of civilization. We're so modern that we haven't any churches. So how could we advertise?"
"No churches, Marjory?" queried her brother-in-law. "But you seem to forget—"
"Well, at least nothing you'd call a church, I'm sure, Alfred—outside of what the foreigners have imported, that is. A few little rude native altars.... That's all. You know, 'when two or three are gathered together'.... It's—well, I've sometimes felt it's the spirit that counts in Tahulamaji, when it comes to matters of religion. Everything's very, very simple. We really haven't time to do it the grand way, even if we knew how."
They hadn't time for church in Tahulamaji! The awful question which now wracked the soul of the minister was: If they hadn't time for church, what had they time for? A dimly terrifying curiosity assailed him. The Rev. Needham had read vague things about the people of the tropics. And a flush overspread his lined, worried face.
Yes, Marjory was an odd sheep, if not a black one. Perhaps she could hardly be called a black one, though there were certainly times when the Rev. Needham saw her as through smoked glasses. Anyway, an odd sheep she certainly was. She did not seem to belong in the herd at all—let alone the family! The rest were all quiet, sensible, orthodox. But about everything Marjory said or did there was something unorthodox, something wickedly theatrical. What a past she had had! Just think of it! Just think, for instance, of spending five whole years of one's life in a place like Tahulamaji! Well, the ways of God were unsearchable. So, it seemed, were the ways of His satanic opponent. The reason she seemed different from themselves must be, fundamentally, that she had had a past. But why had she had a past? Yes, the minister's speculations always must terminate with the knottiest question raised and unanswered. It seemed a part of his destiny.
And meanwhile, there stood Louise and Lynndal, not six feet apart, yet never meeting each other's look; never speaking. How unpremeditated and tragic! He had come all the way from Arizona, and now they had nothing to say to each other. Louise, leaning wretchedly against the railing, seemed, just now, able to realize nothing clearly. The episode on the beach had confused her. She felt herself baffled.
As for Barry's state of mind, that, also, was considerably cloudy. It had happened—the inconceivable, the impossible—and it was now over. Yet was it really over? In just a swift moment like this had all his dreams been broken? It seemed incredible: he could not believe it. He tried to reassure himself, endeavoured to keep hope alight. Something wise and still, deep in his heart, counseled patience. It might be she was only confused: it seemed strange to her, having suddenly a reality like this in place of her dreams. Louise was a dreamer—he knew that. And what might be going on inside her wayward little head, who could guess? So far Barry had only distinguished himself as a wizard of the burning sands. He was a man who could make deserts bloom like the rose. Yet who could say but perhaps he knew a little, too, about the subtler bloom of a woman's heart? Patience, he argued within himself. It might be she was only puzzled, and that she still loved him in spite of the thing that had happened. He would be patient a little while. If it turned out at last that there was no hope, why, then he would go back to the desert again. That was all.