Everett hesitated before answering. In all his life it had never occurred to him to think how his days were spent.
“Since I left college I have travelled a great deal,” he replied, evasively.
“And hast thou seen the whole world?” asked Walda. Wonder was written on her face.
“I have seen much of it.”
Wilhelm Kellar made an inarticulate sound.
“Perhaps it disturbeth Brother Kellar to hear thee speak of the wicked world which he left long ago,” said Gerson Brandt. “Like thee, he hath seen it all; he hath wandered over land and sea.”
“Knowing the world, my father hath kept me safe from it.” Walda had drawn the stool first occupied by Everett close to the head of the lounge, and, sitting near to the sick man, she clasped one of his hands.
“Thou knowest, dear, that I have put away from me all vain longings to know aught of life outside of Zanah.”
Wilhelm Kellar closed his eyes with a look of contentment.
“Didst thou mean me to understand that thou art that abomination of the Lord, an idle and slothful man?” he asked Everett, after a moment of reflection.