"He
has _never_ repented of his crime. But of course he is anxious about
his future, and would try any trick to escape the punishment he has
richly deserved."
All this was terribly real to him, and he imagined the dread scene
more strongly every moment. Those Two went on debating his
case--becoming now so solidly presented to his imagination that he
could see Them, the purple color of Their robes, the halo of light as
in a painted window, Their forms, Their faces. God the Father was not
unlike old Mr. Bates, except that He had a long beard and that there
mingled with the candid dignity of His expression a consciousness of
sovereign power. The Holy Ghost was clean-shaven, very thin, with
sharp clearly-cut features as of somebody who does not enjoy robust
health, and with a slight but painful suggestion of a Roman Catholic
priest who habitually goes deep into private secrets and is never
really satisfied until he has extracted the fullest possible
confessions. He was the One that Dale had never so much cared
about--the _difficult_ member of the firm, the sleeping partner who
never really slept, who professed to keep himself in the background,
but who quietly asserted himself in important moments and proved
infinitely the hardest of the Three.
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