It had never happened; soon he would see from his window Carfax's hulking body cross the court.

No, it was real enough, only it did not concern him.

He watched it, as a spectator, indifferent, callous.

There _was_ a change in his life, but it was a change of another kind.

In the strange consciousness that he now had of some vast and vital Presence, the temporal fact of the thing that he had done lost all importance.