What was he that he could dogmatize on eternal life and the will of the Being who stood behind that veil?
And then would come rushing back that scene in the school-house, the smell of the steaming garments, the gases from the lamps, the roar of the stove, the sound of his own voice, strident, dominating, so alien to his present mood, he could only shudder at it.
He was worn out with the thinking when he drove into the stable at the Merchants' House and roused up the sleeping hostler, who looked at him suspiciously and demanded pay in advance.

This seemed right in his present mood.

He was not to be trusted.
When he flung himself face downward on his bed, the turmoil in his brain was still going on.

He couldn't hold one thought or feeling long; all seemed slipping like water from his hands.
He had in him great capacity for change, for growth.

Circumstances had been against his development thus far, but the time had come when growth seemed to be defeat and failure.
VI.
Radbourn was thinking about him, two days after, as he sat in his friend Judge Brown's law office, poring over a volume of law.