"I have always thought of the spirit of things," he added, "until I met
Paula Mantone. I would have forgotten everything for her beauty, but
she remembered our souls.... And now, because I would have forgotten
the bodies of these men Christonal sent me here to learn that. We are
spirits and bodies, too, Lange. It takes a crowned head to hold to the
two ends at once--God, hear 'em sing----"
The ruffians always hushed and choked us when they sang. Something new
about it this time, for Varsieff was seeing them across a red stream of
their own blood.
"I can't drive 'em into the fire-pits," he muttered. "Why, I'd rather
wash and dress 'em. They've got the idea that I am to lead them home.
I can't betray that--not even for the Cause!... I never saw it before.
They are not herds, not groups--but monads--each a man----"
"We've got to put through the big story," I said quietly. "Thirty
thousand is cheap--our little planting out here is cheap, if we
can give Russia the new heaven and the new earth--Russia--then
America--then the world----"