perspired ... Eine feste Burg; a firm fortress ... a round tower made of old brown bricks and no windows.... No need for Käthe to smile.... She had been a nun ... and then making a lamplit meal for Luther in a wooden German house ... and Rome waiting to kill them. Darwin had come since then. There were people ... distinguished minds, who thought Darwin was true. No God. No Creation. The struggle for existence. Fighting.... Fighting.... Fighting.... Everybody groping and fighting.... Fräulein.... Some said it was true ... some not. They could not both be right. It was probably true ... only old-fashioned people thought it was not. It was true. Just that--monkeys fighting. But who began it? Who made Fräulein? Tough leathery monkey.... 7 Then nothing matters. Just one little short life.... "A few more years shall roll ... A few more seasons pass...." There was a better one than that ... not so organ-grindery. "Swift to its close ebbs out life's little day; Earth's joys grow dim, its glories fade away; Change and decay in all around I see." Wow-wow-wow-whiney-caterwauley.... Mr. Brough quoted Milton in a sermon and said he was a materialist.... Pater said it was a bold thing to say.... Mr. Brough was a clear-headed man. She couldn't imagine how he stayed in the Church.... She hoped he hated that sickening, sickening, idiot humbug, Eve ... meek ... with silly long hair ... "divinely smiling" ... Adam was like a German ... English too.... Impudent bombastic creature ... a sort of man who would call his wife "my dear." There was a hymn that even Pater liked ... the tune was like a garden in the autumn.... O ... Strengthen and _Stay_--up-- ... Holding--all Cre--ay--ay--tion.... Who ... ever Dost Thy ... self--un ... Moved--a--Bide.... Thyself unmoved abide ... Thyself unmoved abide ... Unmoved abide.... Unmoved abide.... Unmoved Abide ... ... Flights of shining steps, shallow and very wide--going up and up and growing fainter and fainter, and far away at the top a faint old face with great rays shooting out all round it ... the picture in the large "Pilgrim's Progress." ... God in heaven.... I belong to Apollyon ... a horror with expressionless eyes ... darting out little spiky flames ... if only it would come now ... instead of waiting until the end.... She clasped her hands closely one in the other. They felt large and strong. She stopped her thoughts and stared for a long while at the faint light in the room.... "It's physically impossible" someone had said ... the only hell thinkable is remorse ... remorse....