The voice grew fainter and fainter, already it was far overhead with the
rushing wind.

"You may punish or--" Here Jones lost sight of Thorpe's figure
altogether, for he seemed to have vanished and melted away into the
wood behind him. His voice sounded far across the trees, very weak, and
ever rising.

"Or if you can rise to the level of a great forgiveness--"

The voice became inaudible.... The wind came crying out of the wood
again.

* * * * *

Jones shivered and stared about him. He shook himself violently and
rubbed his eyes. The room was dark, the fire was out; he felt cold and
stiff. He got up out of his armchair, still trembling, and lit the gas.
Outside the wind was howling, and when he looked at his watch he saw
that it was very late and he must go to bed.

He had not even changed his office coat; he must have fallen asleep in
the chair as soon as he came in, and he had slept for several hours.
Certainly he had eaten no dinner, for he felt ravenous.




III