‘Us should have left before the dew dried,’ said the old man. ‘As is, night liable to catch us on the road.’
Their voices quieted. Footsteps echoed in the empty hallway and he could hear them no more. On the floor beside him and saucer. He filled it with coffee from the pot oop of the stove.
As he rocked he drank the coffee and warmed his fingers ieam. This could not truly be the end. Other voices called wordless in his heart. The voice of Jesus and of John Brown. The voice of the great Spinoza and of Karl Marx. The calling voices of all tho who had fought and to whom it had been vouchsafed to plete their missions. The grief-bound voices of his people. And also the voice of the dead. Of the mute Singer, who was a righteous white man of uanding. The voices of the weak and of the mighty. The , rolling voice of his people growing always in strength and in power. The voice of the strong, true purpo. And in ahe words trembled on his lips--the words which ‘ are surely the root of all human grief--so that he almost said aloud: ‘Almighty Host! Utmost power of the univer! I have doho things which I ought not to have done a uho things which I ought to have done.
‘Us should have left before the dew dried,’ said the old man. ‘As is, night liable to catch us on the road.’
Their voices quieted. Footsteps echoed in the empty hallway and he could hear them no more. On the floor beside him and saucer. He filled it with coffee from the pot oop of the stove.
As he rocked he drank the coffee and warmed his fingers ieam. This could not truly be the end. Other voices called wordless in his heart. The voice of Jesus and of John Brown. The voice of the great Spinoza and of Karl Marx. The calling voices of all tho who had fought and to whom it had been vouchsafed to plete their missions. The grief-bound voices of his people. And also the voice of the dead. Of the mute Singer, who was a righteous white man of uanding. The voices of the weak and of the mighty. The , rolling voice of his people growing always in strength and in power. The voice of the strong, true purpo. And in ahe words trembled on his lips--the words which ‘ are surely the root of all human grief--so that he almost said aloud: ‘Almighty Host! Utmost power of the univer! I have doho things which I ought not to have done a uho things which I ought to have done.
So this ot truly be the end.’
He had first e into the hou with her whom he loved.