His eyes filled with tears as he was saying all this to himself,

good and bad tears: good because they were tears of joy at the

awakening of the spiritual being within him, the being which had

been asleep all these years; and bad tears because they were

tears of tenderness to himself at his own goodness.

He felt hot, and went to the window and opened it. The window

opened into a garden. It was a moonlit, quiet, fresh night; a

vehicle rattled past, and then all was still. The shadow of a