Now that I know, I see what I've been living with for years," Stransom went on very gently.
She looked at him with a larger allowance, doing this gentleness justice.
"How can I then, on this new knowledge of my own, ask you to continue to live with it ?" "I set up my altar, with its multiplied meanings," Stransom began; but she quietly interrupted him.
"You set up your altar, and when I wanted one most I found it magnificently ready.

I used it with the gratitude I've always shown you, for I knew it from of old to be dedicated to Death.

I told you long ago that my Dead weren't many.

Yours were, but all you had done for them was none too much for _my_ worship! You had placed a great light for Each--I gathered them together for One!" "We had simply different intentions," he returned.

"That, as you say, I perfectly knew, and I don't see why your intention shouldn't still sustain you." "That's because you're generous--you can imagine and think.