But the disciples were silent and unusually pensive.

Images of the road they had traversed, of the sun, the rocks and the grass, of Christ lying down under the shelter, quietly floated through their heads, breathing a soft pensiveness, begetting confused but sweet reveries of an eternal movement under the sun.

The wearied body reposed sweetly, and thought was merged in something mystically great and beautiful--and no one recalled Judas! Judas went out, and then returned.

Jesus was discoursing, and His disciples were listening to Him in silence.
Mary sat at His feet, motionless as a statue, and gazed into His face with upturned eyes.

John had come quite close, and endeavoured to sit so that his hand touched the garment of the Master, but without disturbing Him.