The earth was stark as a corpse in utter silence.

The stillness of the frozen air was like the stillness of death and despair.

A fierce blast would have given at least the sense of life and fighting power.

"Suppose she dies," thought Jerome--"suppose she dies." He tried to imagine the world without Lucina, but he could not, for with all his outgoing spirit his world was too largely within him.
For the first time in his life, the conception of the death of that which he loved better than his life was upon him, and it was a conception of annihilation.

"If Lucina is not, then I am not, and that upon which I look is not," was in his mind.
When he rose, he staggered, and could scarcely see his way across the field.