for all I know that, I know
he can get me whenever he wants me. And he's come back again to amuse
himself seeing me worship him ... and he'll make me follow him about,
and all the time he'll be thinking me a little fool, and I shall know
it ... but I can't help it, Peter, I can't help it.... I've nothing to
hold on to, to save me. If I could be religious, if I could pray, like
the people in there ... but he says there's nothing in that; he's made me
believe like him, and I sometimes think he only believes in himself, and
that's why I can only believe in him too. So I've got nothing in the
world to hold on to, and I shall be carried away and drowned...."

She was crying with strangled sobbings, her face in her thin hands.

Peter's arm was put gently about her shoulders, comforting her.

"No, you won't, Rhoda. Rhoda dear, you won't be carried away, because
I shall be here, holding you. Is that any help at all?"

He felt her relax beneath his arm and lean back against him; he heard
her whisper, "Yes; oh, yes. If I can hold onto you, Peter, I shall feel
safe."

"Hold on, then," said Peter, "as tight as you like."

She looked up at him with wet eyes and he felt the claim and the appeal
of her piercing straight into his heart.

"I could care ..." she whispered. "Are you sure, Peter?"

His arm tightened about her. He hadn't meant precisely what she had
understood him to mean; at least, he hadn't translated his purpose to
help her to the uttermost into a specified relation, as she was doing;
but if the purpose, to be fulfilled, had to be so translated, he was
ready for that too. So he said, "Quite sure, Rhoda. I want to be the most
to you that you'll let me be," and her face was hidden against his coat,
and her tension relaxed utterly, and she murmured, "Oh, I can be safe
like that."

So they sat in silence together, between the lit sanctuary and the
desolate night, and heard, as from a long way off, the sound of
chanting:--

"Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace: according to thy
word;

"For mine eyes have seen ..."

Later on, Rhoda said, quiet and happy now, "I've thought you cared,
Peter, for some time. And last night, when I saw you hated Guy to be near
me, I felt sure. But I feel I've so little to give you. So much of me is
burnt away and spoilt. But it'll come back, Peter, I think, if you love
me. I do love you, very much; you've been such a dear to me always, from
the very first night