She understood nothing. Her terror caught her like the wind. She crouched back against the bannisters, covering her face with her hand.
"Don't hit me, father. Please, please don't hit me."
He stood over her, staring down at her.
"It's a plot, and you must be in it with the others.... Well, go and tell them they've won. Tell them to come and kick me again. I'm down now. I'm beaten; go and tell them to come in--to come and take my house and my clothes. Your mother's gone--follow her to London, then."
He turned. She heard him go into the drawing-room.
Suddenly, although she still did not understand what had happened, she knew that she must follow him and care for him. He had pulled the curtains aside and thrown up the windows.
"Let them come in! Let them come in! I--I----"
Suddenly he turned towards her and held out his arms.
"I can't--I can't bear any more." He fell on his knees, burying his face in the shoulder of the chair. Then he cried:
"Oh, God, spare me now, spare me! I cannot bear any more. Thou hast chastised me enough. Oh, God, don't take my sanity from me--leave me that. Oh, God, leave me that! Thou hast taken everything else. I have been beaten and betrayed and deserted. I confess my wickedness, my arrogance, my pride, but it was in Thy service. Leave me my mind. Oh, God, spare me, spare me, and forgive her who has sinned so grievously against Thy laws. Oh, God, God, save me from madness, save me from madness."