"I played what came to me," said Signa.
"But you are merry sometimes."
"Not in a little room with oilwicks burning, and a stench of wine, and people round me. People always make me sad."
"Why that?"
"Because—I do not know:—when a number of faces are round me I seem stupid; it is as if I were in a cage; I feel as if God went away, farther, farther, farther!"
"But God made men and women."
"Yes. But I wonder if the trapped birds, and the beaten dogs, and the smarting mules, and the bleeding sheep think so."
"Oh, Signa!"
"I think they must doubt it," said Signa.
"But the beasts are not Christians, the priests say so," said Palma, who was a very true believer.