Coolies, flung asleep on the burnt grass, might have been corpses, but for the sound of their troubled breathing.
"If I could believe," he groaned, sitting with hands thrust through his hair.

"If I believe in her--But I came too late." The lamp was an added torment.

He sprang up from it, wiped the drops off his forehead, and paced again.

He came too late.

All alone.