His thin, handsome face was beginning to show the marks of mental strain.
His eyes had the set, impassive look of one who, hedged in on both sides, sees a sharp turn ahead of him on an unknown road.
* * * * * "Rachel! Rachel! Rachel! Don't you hear me calling to you?
Don't you hear me telling you that I can't live without you?
The hymn was right--'Other refuge have I none, Hangs my helpless soul on Thee'-- only it was written of you, not of that far, far away God who does not care.
Only care for me.

Only love me.

Only give me those cool hands that I may lean my forehead against them.

No help can come to me except through you.

Stoop down to me and raise me up, for I love you." The sun went in suddenly, and a cold shadow fell on the pillar and on Hugh's heart.
Love and marriage were not for him.