His altar moreover had ceased to exist; his chapel, in his dreams, was a great dark cavern.

All the lights had gone out--all his Dead had died again.

He couldn't exactly see at first how it had been in the power of his late companion to extinguish them, since it was neither for her nor by her that they had been called into being.

Then he understood that it was essentially in his own soul the revival had taken place, and that in the air of this soul they were now unable to breathe.
The candles might mechanically burn, but each of them had lost its lustre.

The church had become a void; it was his presence, her presence, their common presence, that had made the indispensable medium.