Tom," said Arthur gently, after another minute, "do you see why I could not grieve now to see my dearest friend die?
It can't be--it isn't--all fever or illness.

God would never have let me see it so clear if it wasn't true.

I don't understand it all yet; it will take me my life and longer to do that--to find out what the work is." When Arthur stopped there was a long pause.

Tom could not speak; he was almost afraid to breathe, lest he should break the train of Arthur's thoughts.

He longed to hear more, and to ask questions.