Winifred pointed to the door. Why had he kissed her? What had led him into that? Neither love nor passion— utter blankness so far as reducing the act to terms. Immediately beneath the pulpit stood a large circular pew where malefactors under sentence of death sat to hear the condemned sermon delivered to them, and where they formed a public spectacle to the crowds, which curiosity generally attracted on those occasions. Their small talk continued. He sat back in an easy chair with a hand upon each of the elbows, and looked steadfastly into the fire. The stretch of red dirt disappeared into a stretch of trees like Van Gogh’s painting. “You may find in it a paragraph of some interest to you.
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