"Why art thou so vexed, O my soul;
And why art thou so disquieted within me?"
And then the answer; an answer which to some is meaningless, but which, to the seeker after the "things that are invisible," is the only answer—the answer that the soul makes to itself—
"O put thy trust in God!"
May observed no one in the Chapel; she saw nothing but the written words in the massive Prayer-book on the desk before her; and when at last the service was over, she came out looking neither to right nor left, and was startled to find herself emerging into the fresh air with Boreham by her side, claiming her company back to the Lodgings.
It was just dusk and the moon was rising in the east. Though it could not be seen, its presence was visible in the thin vaporous lightness of the sky. The college buildings stood out dimly, as if seen by a pallid dawn.
"You leave Oxford on Monday?" began Boreham, as they went through the entrance porch out into the High and turned to the right.
"Yes," said May, and a sigh escaped her. That Boreham noticed.
"I don't deny the attractions of Oxford," he said. "All I object to is its pretensions."
"You don't like originality," murmured May.