“I want to make a confession to you,” he continued. “I never had the faintest conception of the rhythm of life until I went to Africa. I had known how long it takes to grow a tree; I was familiar with the metamorphoses through which a plant must pass before it attains to perfection and becomes what it is; but it had never occurred to me to apply these laws and facts to our own lives; this had never entered my mind. I had demanded too much; I had been in too much of a hurry. Egoistic impatience had placed false weights and measures in my hands. What I have learned during these seventeen years of trial and hardship is patience. Everything moves so slowly. Humanity is still a child, and yet we demand justice of it, expect right and righteous action from it. Justice? Oh, there is still a long, long road to be travelled before we reach Justice! The way is as long and arduous as that from the primeval forest to the cultivated garden. We must exercise patience—for the benefit of the many generations of men that are to come after us.”
Daniel got up and began to walk back and forth. After a silence that was exceedingly painful to Benda, he said: “Let’s go out. Let’s go to a café, or take a long walk on the streets, or go wherever you would like to go. Or if I am a burden to you, I will accompany you for a short stretch and then remain alone. The point is, I cannot stay here any longer; I cannot stand it here.”
“A burden to me?” replied Benda reproachfully. That was the tone, the look of years gone by. Daniel felt at once that he was personally under no obligation to talk. He saw at once that Benda knew a great deal and suspected the rest. He felt his heart grow lighter.
They went downstairs.
XV
Daniel asked Benda to wait on the stairs, locked the door, and took his hat from the hook. In the living room there was a great deal of noise punctuated with laughter. Philippina came out of her room, and snarled: “The way they’re carrying on in there! You’d think they wuz all drunk!”
“What is going on?” asked Daniel timidly, merely to have something to say.
“They are playing blindfold,” replied Philippina contemptuously, “every one of them is an old bird, and they’re playing blindfold!”
There was a sound as if a plate had been broken; a piercing scream followed, and then silence. But the silence was of momentary duration: that vulgar, slimy laughter soon broke out again.
Above the din of screaming voices, Daniel heard Dorothea’s. He hastened to the door and opened it.