'Why not the grace of your Maker and Redeemer, He who died for you, He who upholds you, He whom you daily crucify afresh?
There is nothing here,'-- striking on his bosom--'nothing there'-- smiting the wall--'and nothing there'-- stamping--'nothing but God's Grace! We walk upon it, we breathe it; we live and die by it; it makes the nails and axles of the universe; and a puppy in pyjamas prefers self-conceit!' The huge dark man stood over against Herrick by the line of the divers' helmets, and seemed to swell and glow; and the next moment the life had gone from him.

'I beg your pardon,' said he; 'I see you don't believe in God ?' 'Not in your sense, I am afraid,' said Herrick.
'I never argue with young atheists or habitual drunkards,' said Attwater flippantly.

'Let us go across the island to the outer beach.' It was but a little way, the greatest width of that island scarce exceeding a furlong, and they walked gently.

Herrick was like one in a dream.

He had come there with a mind divided; come prepared to study that ambiguous and sneering mask, drag out the essential man from underneath, and act accordingly; decision being till then postponed.
Iron cruelty, an iron insensibility to the suffering of others, the uncompromising pursuit of his own interests, cold culture, manners without humanity; these he had looked for, these he still thought he saw.