“And as for praying for faith—this sort of monologue is about as near as any one of my sort ever gets to prayer. She would not look at him, would not think of him; when her mind wavered, then she muttered to herself in the darkness so as to keep hold of her generalizations. It had been a part of the vast domain of the servants in the house’s earlier incarnation. “Well,” she said, “good-night, father. “I suppose you’re like the rest of them. ” “I’ve been certain of it for years. The house was redolent with the smells of cinnamon baking and the stuffed turkey and marinated pork roast.
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