"I want to love! I want something great and pure to lift me to itself! Dear old man, I cannot bear it any more! I am so cold, so hard, so hard; will no one help me ?" The water gathered slowly on her shawl, and fell on to the wet stones; but she lay there crying bitterly.

For so the living soul will cry to the dead, and the creature to its God; and of all this crying there comes nothing.

The lifting up of the hands brings no salvation; redemption is from within, and neither from God nor man; it is wrought out by the soul itself, with suffering and through time.
Doss, on the kitchen doorstep, shivered, and wondered where his mistress stayed so long; and once, sitting sadly there in the damp, he had dropped asleep, and dreamed that old Otto gave him a piece of bread, and patted him on the head, and when he woke his teeth chattered, and he moved to another stone to see if it was drier.

At last he heard his mistress' step, and they went into the house together.

She lit a candle, and walked to the Boer-woman's bedroom.